


Will-O'-The-Wisp

by xX_Hazel_Xx



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Has No Chill, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Drama, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Sensitivity, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo is a softie, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Kylo Ren, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Strangers to friends to ...., Sweet Finn (Star Wars), The Force, but he doesn't want to admit it, plot heavy, probably some non-canon stuff, slowest of all burns... sorry :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_Hazel_Xx/pseuds/xX_Hazel_Xx
Summary: You have just arrived onboard the Finalizer, assigned to an intern position within the Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction. You do your best to keep your head down, attend to your duties, and stay out of trouble — a task that proves to be more difficult than you had imagined when the dreaded Kylo Ren crashes into the picture. You come to learn that the two of you share a strange connection, but how this connection came to be and what this connection entails remains a mystery to be solved. It doesn't help that Kylo is full of secrets...And little does he know:You are full of them too.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo/Reader, Ben Solo/You, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 37
Kudos: 75





	1. Paper Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! 
> 
> This is my first fic, so before I say anything, I just wanted to put it out there that this could be absolutely terrible... But nonetheless, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it!
> 
> *A note from future xX_Hazel_Xx: the chapter length and writing style improves massively as the story goes on! At some point, I will be going back to flush out the first few chapters, but until then, hang in there!*
> 
> Please comment with any questions, feedback, or random thoughts you have! :) And, if you *hopefully* like it, I would greatly appreciate kudos! 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on TikTok (x.x_hazel_x.x) and Tumblr (oo.hazel.oo) to keep updated on this fic!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**** **Setting I: The Finalizer**

**_  
_ **

**Setting II (referenced): Lothal**

****

**_Say, it's only a paper moon_ **

**_Sailing over a cardboard sea_ **

**_But it wouldn't be make-believe_ **

**_If you believed in me_ **

**_~ It's Only a Paper Moon - Ella Fitzgerald ~_ **

* * *

_This couldn’t be the same sky I’ve looked up at all these years_.

But you knew it was… and that _terrified_ you.

Your footsteps were silent as you hesitantly made your way down the metal ramp of the small, gray shuttle you were disembarking, which eventually led to the glistening black floors of one of the most feared ships in the galaxy: The Finalizer.

Massive windows revealed an endless expanse of stars before you, and you couldn't help but stare in awe. It was strange seeing the sky like this — no sun or clouds present — all of the stars unobscured in an abyss of utter blackness. They always seemed two dimensional back on Lothal, thin as the parchment you used to sketch them on. The stars, planets, moons — they only existed on paper.

_Until now._

Here they were, spread across your vision, permeating your senses from all sides. You looked around to see if anyone else was having a similar reaction to the speckled darkness that surrounded you.

_Nope, guess it’s just me then._

You shifted your focus down to your feet: your shoes, which were a natural earthy brown, stood out against the inky floor. The artificial lighting strained your eyes and you found yourself missing the natural sunlight that warmed your body back home. Here everything felt constricted, claustrophobic. And what bothered you the most was that everyone else seemed complacent, comfortable even, in the sterile box that was the Finalizer.

You finally forced yourself to focus back on the moment at hand. A uniformed woman approached you. She had a long, sculpted face with black hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck.

“Welcome to the Finalizer,” she stated, with no inflection at all. “I will be showing you to your accommodation, where you will be further briefed on the terms and conditions of your stay here with the First Order.”

The way she said ‘terms and conditions’ made it seem like you were signing away something worth a whole lot more than just a temporary internship.

The woman, who you secretly nicknamed Ms. Stoney in reference to her cold, hard stare, led you down a series of hallways, each one identical in nature. You found yourself lost after the first few turns and made a mental note to pay more attention to the directions the woman was giving you.

Eventually, you found yourself in a hallway with six identical doors. Ms. Stoney pointed to the one on the right side at the very end of the hall.

“That is yours,” she solemnly directed. “You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door. Until you are given orders to do so, don't travel about the ship, contact anyone outside of the ship, or speak to others without direct permission.”

Just then, a stromtrooper turned the corner to walk down the hallway you and Ms. Stoney were standing in. As he walked by, he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey!" you said, responding to the polite gesture eagerly; you were desperate for some normal human interaction.

Ms. Stoney whipped her head towards you in a piercing glare.

“Oh, sorry… I forgot.” You smiled sheepishly at her, bringing your shoulders up towards your ears. Back on Lothal, your father would always tell you how important first impressions were. You could almost hear him sigh from all the way across the galaxy. 

The woman rolled her eyes with a huff. “Do you have any immediate questions?” 

_Finally,_ you thought. Your brain had been buzzing with questions ever since you arrived. _Where would you be working? Who would you be working with? Why was it so kriffing cold on this ship? From the looks of it, the Order wasn't short on credits or resources, so you'd think they would be able to acquire a heating unit or two, right?_

“Yes, actuall-” you started, eager to acquire some answers, but not before being interrupted again.

“Great, you can ask General Hux them when you meet him later this afternoon. I’m sure he will be _happy_ to help." In the meantime, stay in your room. Your luggage will be brought in shortly.”

And with that, she spun on her heel, briskly walking away from you like a protocol droid, minus the good manners. 

You stood there in silence and sighed. You were used to dealing with unfriendly people back home. Oftentimes your dad would have to accommodate for the occasional unfriendly customer at the shop where he sold his paintings and you would carefully watch how he handled each situation. He never raised his voice and always made sure to return a scowl with a smile. Not expecting such a response, the customer’s reaction was always the same: a flustered scoff and a frustrated beeline towards the nearest door. You adopted this method of effectively handling difficult people in your own life, this moment with Ms. Stoney included.

Who knew that a basic gesture of human kindness — one as simple as a smile — could have such a large impact?

 _Apparently not even you._

* * *

You inhaled a deep breath and opened the door to your new room. It was small and cold. You didn’t mind the size; you were used to that back home. You did, however, mind the temperature, which made you to shiver and pull your sleeves over your hands. The black, windowless walls of the room made you feel even more claustrophobic than you were in the hangar. There were only a few items of furniture in the room: a surprisingly large bed, a sleek black desk, and an armchair that looked like the cause of some major future back pain.

You spotted two doors, one that led to a small refresher, and the other to a closet. Upon further inspection of the closet, you found it filled with pristine black and grey attire. A twinge of homesickness pierced your heart as you thought back to the light, comfortably rugged clothes you had grown accustomed to on Lothal.

_Maybe this was a mistake…_

You looked back at the entrance to your room before remembering what Ms. Stoney had told you: _You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door._

As you moved closer, you found two sheets of paper taped to the door. On one was a map of the Finalizer, and on the other was a list of the week’s “activities”. You looked closely at the rest of the schedule for the day and found three things written:

**6:00 - Dinner is served in the cafeteria**

**7:30 - Collect ID from Block D Reception**

**8:30 - Meet with General Hux to receive further instruction regarding your internship**

Items one and two on the list could be accomplished easily enough… But number three?

 _That_ made you nervous. 

* * *

The hours passed too quickly and you found yourself staring, eyes full of dread, at a clock reading 8:15.

_What was this meeting with General Hux about, anyways? I wasn’t prepared for this… not on my first day at least._

You thought back to when Ms. Stoney told you how _happy_ General Hux would be to answer all your questions. There was something in her tone of voice that made it seem like he would be the exact opposite.

 _Oh well._ You took a deep breath. _I’ll do my best, try to act professional, and, if all else fails, simply try to smile in the face of terror._

You changed into a black turtleneck and gray trousers, tied your hair into a bun not nearly as tight as Ms. Stoney’s, and readjusted the braided bracelet on your wrist — a gift from your best friend, Cheyenne, who was back on Lothal.

With a deep sigh, shoulder roll, and a quick tip of your head, you walked out of your room and into the adjacent hallway. Studying the map that was provided to you, you began your trek to the General’s office.

* * *

As you navigated the seemingly endless hallways of the Finalizer, you passed a menagerie of stormtroopers, officers, and droids. The atmosphere was rigid and brisk — everyone seemed to have an urgent purpose, an important life-or-death matter to attend to.

It was a stark contrast to the slow, free-flowing lifestyle of Lothal; most people there recognized that with each new day came new challenges, making life unpredictable. But instead of responding to this uncertainty by attempting to control the uncontrollable, Lothalians tended to adapt, mold themselves to accommodate any given situation. They were humble this way.

And here, where change was seen as something that challenged the draconian stability of the First Order, you came to learn that the malleable lifestyle you grew so accustomed to on Lothal was considered the equivalent of a death sentence here on the Finalizer. 

You re-emerged from your thoughts and found yourself nearing your destination. You rounded a corner, checking over the map you were provided with a furrowed brow.

As you attempted to concentrate on the various lines and names written on the small piece of paper, a strange feeling washed over you. It started as a small shiver, before turning into a slight prickle at the back of your neck. You swatted your hand behind you, thinking a small bug landed on you, only to remember that you were on a spaceship far above any planet where bugs would be located. You shook your head, trying to concentrate harder on deciphering the map, only to have the prickling become more intense, almost _invasive_.

_Kriff, am I going insane?_

The not-so-friendly tingle intensified enough that you decided to turn and face the invisible menace that seemed to creep its way up your spine. You moved so abruptly that a few passing stormtroopers tilted their heads towards you in curiosity.

Embarrassed at your moment of irritation and confusion, you averted your eyes and started to turn your head back in the other direction — but before you could, something caught your attention.

Or rather, _someone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! 
> 
> Hmmm... I wonder who caught your attention? *winks conspicuously*
> 
> Sorry for the kinda boring introductory chapter; I promise it will get more exciting as we learn more about your backstory in future chapters! 
> 
> Again, feel free to drop a comment/kudos — It would be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Stay safe y'all,
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	2. Across the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief encounter with the mysterious Kylo Ren, you find yourself caught in a moral dilemma - one that gets you in trouble with a certain notorious General onboard the Finalizer. As you find out more about your internship and its conditions, you start to regret your decision to leave home more and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Look who's back already :) 
> 
> As it turns out, writing is actually a lot of fun. So whether you wanted it or not, here is another chapter! 
> 
> Again, I have no idea what I'm doing. However, I would greatly appreciate kudos & comments so I know I'm not a complete failure ;) 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Setting I: The Finalizer**

****

**Setting II (referenced): Lothal**

****

**_Images of broken light_ **

**_Which dance before me like a million eyes_ **

**_They call me on and on_ **

**_Across the universe_ **

**_Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box_ **

**_They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe_ **

**_Nothing’s gonna change my world…_ **

**_~Across the Universe - The Beatles ~_ ** ****

* * *

**CW: minor, canon-typical violence, blood**

He was tall, _really tall,_ and wore an all-black ensemble of expertly-fitted linens. His robes, like an ebony waterfall, fell down below his feet. His cape billowed behind him dramatically, almost like a prince. Your eyes drifted up to his face, or rather where his face should’ve been, as he was wearing a mask. You recognized his visor; you would be surprised if there was a single soul in the galaxy who didn’t.

You immediately knew the face that lied behind it: 

_Commander Kylo Ren._

As if you had said his name out loud, the Commander, who had previously been reprimanding a stormtrooper, snapped his head to the side to meet your eyes. 

You froze, panic starting to build in your gut. He cocked his head to the side. You were finding it difficult to avert your eyes from the metallic twilight of his mask. After a moment, you realized that you were still staring and quickly turned your head back to the map. 

You continued to feel his piercing gaze for a few more seconds as you attempted to slow your breathing back to a semi-normal rate. After what seemed like an eternity, he focused his attention back onto the anxiety-ridden stormtrooper who stood before him. With a casual flick of his hand, the Commander threw him against the nearest wall, where he crumpled down to the floor, unmoving.

_Oh stars. Oh stars. Oh stars._

You bore your eyes into the piece of paper in your hands with an extreme ferocity, not daring to look up. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding when he finally turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the unfortunate trooper unconscious on the floor. 

Now you faced a dire moral dilemma: help the injured trooper and risk being late to your meeting, or walk away and arrive on time. After going over the options in your head, you started to realize how selfish and inconsiderate you sounded. _Is this what working on the Finalizer did to people, scare them into a self-preservational mindset, prioritizing duty over empathy?_

You remembered something your dad used to tell you: _Nothing bad can ever come from helping those in need._

Though you were aware the same may not be true for life on the Finalizer, you hadn’t lost your Lothalian morality. 

_Not yet._

With a newfound confidence, you made your way over to the fallen stormtrooper, proud of yourself for honoring your father’s advice. You bent down until you were on your knees in front of him. Everyone else in the hallway continued to go about their business as if nothing had happened. After carefully removing his helmet, you found he was seemingly unscathed and breathing steadily. The man who lied before you looked young, maybe only a little older than you were. 

_He looks so… normal._

You gently shifted his head so that he would be more comfortable, and after doing so, found your hand covered in blood. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern and you peered down to view the source of the fluid, finding a large gash at the back of his scalp. 

_Oh stars._

You were saying that a lot today. 

You looked around frantically, hoping that someone else would see the predicament you were in and offer their help. 

_No one did._

You started to become angry; angry at the normalization of violence within the First Order. But you weren’t naive — you understood that violence was always going to be present, no matter where you were. You were more frustrated by the _reactions,_ or lack thereof, to that violence. You found yourself becoming more and more uncomfortable with the idea of working on the Finalizer, surrounded by people who seemed to lack every empathetic bone in their bodies. 

You decided to channel that anger and frustration into making sure the stormtrooper would be okay — a fate you _knew_ wasn’t shared by other victims of Kylo Ren and the First Order. 

_I need to stop the bleeding._

After one more desperate look around the hallway, which was still crowded with troopers, various lieutenants, and droids, you spotted a man wearing a long coat that could definitely help stem some of the bleeding. You heard yourself calling out to him:

“Sir! Excuse me, sir!” 

He glanced down at you as he approached, seemingly confused and irritated at the sight before him. 

“I’m sorry, but I- I need to borrow this!” You gestured towards his long overcoat.

His mouth opened in protest but before he knew what was happening, you had grabbed the coat off of his shoulders and placed it at the back of the stormtrooper’s head. The man’s startled expression evolved to one of anger as he roughly grabbed your arm, bringing you up to a standing position. Not letting go of your arm, he snarled in your face. 

“ _What_ is the _meaning_ of this?” He growled.

 _Is he serious right now?_ you thought, incredulous to the man's behavior. 

“I was just trying to save his life!” You pleaded, before adding, “Sir”. 

“ _General,”_ he seethed.

“Right, sorry, _General,”_ you repeated. 

The unnamed General loosened his grip on your arm slightly. You stood there in a silent panic, not knowing what was coming next. 

“Who _are_ you? Where are you stationed?” the General spat. 

_Great,_ you thought, _I'm gonna get fired and I haven't even started working. Mother will be real happy about that._

“Uhh… I’m a - an intern. In the Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction.” You shrugged nervously and gave a sheepish smile. “It’s my first day.” 

“ _Obviously,”_ the General frustratedly sighed. He slowly looked you up and down, considering something. “You don’t happen to be from that dreaded planet _Lothal_ , are you?”

Surprised at his knowledge of this, you replied with a twinge of shock and confusion in your voice. 

“Yeah, yeah I am. How did you-”

“It _seems_ you are late for our meeting.” 

_Kriff._

“ _You’re_ General Hux?” you asked, already knowing the answer. 

“That is correct,” he replied slowly through clenched teeth. 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. There was no way this was going to end well. 

Gently extricating yourself from his grasp, you knelt again by the stormtrooper, checking on his wound. It was still bleeding, but much less than before. Your eyes drifted to his face, a deep brown color, accentuated by kind features and lips that were downturned in a slight frown.

 _He looks sad._ You sighed. 

“Is there anyone who we can take him to?” You asked helplessly, gesturing to the body next to you.

“I do not concern myself with the business of trivial trooper mishaps,” Hux spat back, irritated.

You chuckled humorously. “This was _hardly_ a misha-”

Hux cut you off. “I _know_ a mere _intern_ wouldn’t _dare_ speak back to a commanding _General_ on their first day of work, now would they?”

If you wanted to keep your job, and probably your life, you knew you had to comply with his orders. Resisting at this point wouldn’t do you, or the trooper, any good. 

“No General, they wouldn’t,” you replied solemnly, eyes downcast.

“Good. I will let the fact that you ruined my _irreplaceable_ coat on the account of a _replaceable_ trooper slide for now. But any more trouble of this sort, and I will see to it myself that you are executed.” His eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in a threatening glare.

“Yes, General,” you replied.

“Follow me, and don’t fall behind,” he gestured in the direction of the hallway he initially came from. 

With one last look at the trooper, you stood and followed him, thoughts spinning through your head.

You remembered his words: _replaceable trooper._

Surely that meant you, a young intern, were far below the status of replaceable _._

_Yes, that’s right._

_You were executional._

* * *

You followed Hux to a medium-sized office. There was a large, sleek desk in the center of the room. On one side of the desk was an uncomfortable-looking chair with a tall, rectangular back. On the other side was another chair, this one smaller, but just as uncomfortable-looking. The lighting in the room was dark, making it difficult to see Hux’s face. His ginger hair, however, stuck out like a sore thumb, and you found yourself wondering if he was ever made fun of for it as a kid. 

“Sit,” he demanded. 

You did as he told, bringing your hands to your lap to fiddle with your fingers: a nervous habit. 

“So…” you started. 

_Silence._

“Umm…” _More silence._

You sighed. “This… chair. It’s nice, ya know. Sturdy. Real sturdy.” 

Your nervous babbling was met by yet another bout of silence. 

“And those curtains are-”

“You’re an artist,” the General interrupted. Though it was meant as a question, it came out as more of a statement. Maybe a questioning tone was too polite of a gesture for his 'intimidating' persona. 

“Yes,” you replied. “Well, mostly. Kind of.” You stumbled over your words, trying to find the best answer. 

He rolled his eyes. “Well, which is it? Yes, mostly, or kind of?” 

“Yes, General.”

“Were you briefed on your internship duties here on the Finalizer prior to your arrival?”

“A little, General.”

“And?” he questioned impatiently. 

“And I am supposed to help in the creation of propaganda posters and flyers in support of the First Order.” 

“That is correct,” he replied blandly. “They will then be mass produced and distributed on planets that we are attempting to apprehend. These will hopefully lead neutral parties away from the grasp of the Resistance and into the hands of the First Order.”

“Will I have others working with me?” you asked hesitantly.

“We have assembled a small team to assist you — but should the work produced disappoint us, it will be _your_ head in the trash compactor.” 

You shuttered at his words because you knew that what he was saying was true. Thinking back to the fate of the poor stormtrooper you came across earlier, you couldn’t help but imagine what your own fate could be. 

Twirling the end of your bracelet, you thought of home. You’d been doing that a lot lately too. Images flashed before your eyes: _your mother, an old song whistling through her cracked lips, spiralling hair flying behind her as light whirled and danced over her body. Your father, painting in his makeshift studio, an organized chaos of antiques — rusted paint tins, bristled brushes, and half-finished canvases surrounding him. Your brother, perched on the raggedy wood fence that surrounded your home with one arm rested on his beloved speeder, eyes staring longingly at the marshy horizon, almost as if he was begging it to come just a little closer. And you. Watching everyone else as if it were the last time you would be able to do so…_

You blinked and suddenly you were back in the present, however something was now clouding your vision. You hadn’t noticed when the tears had started to fall. 

Hux just stared at you, and you stared right back, not knowing what to say. 

Finally, breaking the tense silence, the General abruptly stood. “I believe that this will be enough information for today. You will start work tomorrow. Directions to your workspace will be posted to your door.” He paused. “That is all, you are dismissed.” He gestured to the door. 

Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, you stood and made your way into the hallway, not saying another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will your first day of work entail? What happened to the stormtrooper you so daringly saved? What will happen when you encounter Kylo Ren again?
> 
> Stay posted to find out! The next chapter should be up by Sunday night.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment/kudos if you want to make a girl real happy :)
> 
> Y'all are the best, stay safe and healthy out there!
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	3. Catch a Falling Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare, a new friend, and an old enemy — your first official day of work gets off to an interesting start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> First of all, sorry this is a day late. This chapter went off in a totally different, (dialogue-heavy) direction than I originally imagined, but it's definitely my favorite so far! I attempted to include a fair bit of Star Wars history in this chapter, so please go easy on me if I screwed any of it up. 
> 
> Also, just a reminder that this fic contains the slowest of all burns. But don't worry, your patience will be rewarded! ;)
> 
> As always, kudos/comments are greatly appreciated & enjoyed! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Setting I: The Finalizer**

****

**Setting II (referenced): Lothal**

_**** _

_**For when your troubles start multiplyin',** _

_**And they just might,** _

_**It's easy to forget them without tryin',** _

_**With just a pocketful of starlight!** _

_**~Catch a Falling Star - Perry Como~** _

* * *

**CW: minor, canon-typical violence**

_Panic. Complete and utter panic. You are searching for something, but you can’t seem to find it. You need this thing to survive. Where the kriff is it?!!_

_A bang. Heavy footsteps. A scream; your scream. You are being dragged away, helpless, no one around to save you._

_Eventually you feel your bare feet hit freezing cold ground, but it’s a sinister voice that sounds from above you that chills you to the bone._

You sit up with a start, panting heavily. You hadn’t had a dream like that in a while. This one was scary, but what really terrified you was how strangely familiar it felt. _It’s probably just the stress,_ you thought. 

You looked at the clock across the room: **5:13.** You were too anxious to go back to sleep and you had to get up in an hour anyways, so you decided to get ready for the day. 

You showered, brushed your teeth, and inspected your closet for something to wear. You chose a dark grey tunic with a matching grey skirt that went just below your knees. In typical First Order fashion, you pulled your hair into a tight bun. Looking in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. 

_No, this wouldn’t do._

Still feeling a bit rebellious from yesterday's encounter with the injured stormtrooper and General Hux, you decided to leave your hair down like you did on Lothal, two loose braids winding around the sides of your head, the rest of it gently cascading over your shoulders. 

_Better._

Content with your appearance, you headed straight for the cafeteria. You didn’t recognize most of the food — It all looked like gray mush compared to the vibrant, fresh foods your parents cooked back home. 

Lothal was known for its large farm-based economy and culture, something you took immense pride in. Lothalians had fought hard to preserve their land, as it was often victim to exploitation by those with galactic authority. Many times the planet was under imperialist occupation, namely the former Galactic Empire. During those times, the planet was essentially destroyed, its sacred habitats burnt to a crisp. Natural resources were depleted, pollution enveloped the air, and Lothalians were either forced into a life of servitude or were killed. A small group of rebels, called the Spectres, led a resistance effort against the Imperial occupiers, eventually succeeding in driving them out. Since then, relations between Lothal and the First Order were tense, which explained some of General Hux’s disdain towards you. Lothal, however, managed to restore its previous prosperity and you had been lucky enough to grow up in relative peace. 

Right now, all you longed for was your favorite fruit, jogan, but it didn’t look like you were going to find it here anytime soon. With a sigh, you settled for the indistinct mush and sat down at a table in the corner.

Since you woke up so early, you were the only one in the cafeteria, but you didn’t mind. You were actually _thankful —_ this meant no more run-ins with stormtroopers, generals, or ridiculously tall men in capes. 

After forcing down the last of the mush, you strolled the hallways, attempting to somewhat gain your bearings before your first official day of work. You pulled out the map you had been provided and followed its twists and turns to the yellow dot labeled: **Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction.**

As you rounded the last corner, you saw a door a dozen feet away which appeared to be guarded by a stormtrooper. _This must be it,_ you thought.

You apprehensively approached the door, willing your feet to move forward with more confidence than they were. As you reached for the handle, you did your best to avoid the trooper’s gaze. Suddenly, he reached his arm out towards you. 

Terrified, you stumbled backwards, hitting your head on the wall behind you. The trooper advanced, both arms now outstretched.

You protectively put up your arms as well, attempting to shield your head from any incoming injury — but it never came. 

“Hey, hey, whoa.” You heard the trooper say, his hands now raised in surrender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s me!” 

Your hands were shaking as you lowered your arms slightly. You tried to think of any stormtroopers you knew. _Not any on the Finalizer,_ you thought. 

“I- I’m sorry. Who are you?” You stuttered.

“Oh, right!” He gestured lazily to his mask. “This ol’ thing.” He sighed and shook his head. 

He spoke unlike you’d ever heard a trooper speak before. He sounded kind, normal even! _Normal…_ Something clicked and you started to put the pieces together. 

“You - _you_ were the one I found in the hallway!” 

You were shocked; you thought for sure you had left him to die. A stab of guilt pierced your heart. 

“Yeah, that’s me, good ol' Mr. Concussion!”

“I thought you were... Well, I thought you were _going_ to be-” you started.

“Trust me, I’ve been through much worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly. You paused, looking him over in astonishment and thoughts running wild. _What piece of space junk sent him back to work the day after receiving a head injury?_

“You should be lying down, or resting, or getting treatment in the med bay, or-”

“Wow," he said. "You sure worry a lot about other people for someone who doesn’t worry enough about themselves.” 

“Why do you say that?” you questioned sceptically.

“Well, going through with that stunt yesterday, you not only risked your career for _me_ , a stranger, but you risked your life as well.” 

When you didn’t respond, he paused for a second, reaching behind him to reveal the large First Order coat you had used to stop his bleeding the day before. _Hux’s coat._

“I take it this isn’t yours?” He asked, knowingly. You imagined a small smirk forming under his helmet. 

You responded with a breathy laugh. “No, it most definitely is not. That _used_ to belong to General Hux, but now it’s yours, I suppose.” 

His eyes widened in a mix of shock, fear, and a hint of admiration. 

“Son of a blaster, how’d you manage that?” He replied.

“Well, I uhh- I just kinda took it from him?” 

“You just kinda took it from him?” he repeated, stunned. 

“Without his permission…” you continued, quieter this time. 

The trooper just stared at you in shock, and you started to feel uncomfortable. _Maybe he thought you were crazy. Maybe he would turn you in. Maybe he would bring you to Kylo R-_

A laugh bellowed from behind his mask, slightly distorted.

“You!” A laugh. “And Hux, how-” More laughter. “Without his permission-” He could barely get his words out between laughs. 

This was the first time you’d heard laughter since arriving on the Finalizer, and you couldn’t help but smile in return. As his laughter mellowed, he sighed and stuck out his hand for you to shake. 

“I’m FN-2187.” 

_FN-2187,_ you thought. “That’s hardly a name…” 

He shrugged. “It’s the one I was given.” 

You thought for a second. “Mind if I give you a new one, to be used privately of course,” you clarified. 

He looked taken aback, even through the helmet. “Yeah, that would be… okay.”

You paused, thinking. “How about I call you Finn?”

“Finn… Yeah, I like that,” he said. “Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me. My friends back home call me Wren, but it’s probably better you call me by my real name here,” you said, referencing the Finalizer. 

He nods, and after telling him your name, you drop his hand. He looks around the hallway before moving a step closer to you. 

“In all seriousness, _thank you._ No one has ever asked for more than my trooper code, and no one _ever_ stops when… you know...,” He trailed off, lowering his gaze, that sadness you sensed from him yesterday having returned. 

“Hey,” you reached out and placed a gentle hand on his armored shoulder. “We got each other’s backs now, right? We’ll make it outta here in one piece. Maybe we can steal Hux’s toupee next time.” You winked at him, making him chuckle. 

“Ha, yeah, that’d be great,” he replied. 

At that moment, the Ginger General himself rounded the corner of the hallway, followed by two obedient stormtroopers.

You started to feel the panic building again. _Had he heard what I said? Is he coming to fulfil his promise of my death by trash compactor?_

“It’s alright,” Finn reassured. “Follow my lead.” 

Kicking Hux’s bloodied jacket behind the door, Finn moved to stand in front of you a few feet. You started to follow him, but he held his arm back, keeping you in place. Finn stood at attention as Hux neared, and you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. You noticed that his coat seemed a few sizes too big, and you chuckled internally, knowing that _you_ were the reason for that. 

“Ah, I see you have yet again managed to involve yourself in the business of pathetic stormtroopers,” he spat. 

You glanced down to Finn’s fists, which were clenched in anger. 

“No, General. I was just asking for directions” you replied. 

Hux’s eyes slowly trailed over your body, like a predator stalking his prey. Finn subtly shifted his balance back and forth, continuing to clench and unclench his fists. The General’s eyes came to land on your hair, which he scowled at disapprovingly. He began to approach you, and as he did, you noticed Finn start to move towards you. You made a small gesture with your hand, pleading with him to stay back. He listened, reluctantly. 

Hux grabbed a chunk of your hair. “ _This_ is _not_ within protocol,” he seethed. 

“Neither is that coat, General,” you replied, gesturing to his oversized garb. 

You had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence had come from, but you immediately regretted your comment as Hux pulled harder, causing you to wince in pain. He pulled his face to your ear.

“S _trike two,_ ” he whispered threateningly, before shoving you back into the wall and turning around, almost knocking into Finn.

Expecting Finn to move out of the way, Hux waited, but neither of them stirred. The two were locked in a stalemate for what seemed like eons. Finn eventually sidestepped, letting him pass, and with a final glare, Hux and the troopers continued walking down the hallway. 

You leaned against the wall, rubbing your now-sore head. As soon as Hux and the troopers were out of sight, Finn rushed over to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concerned. His armored hand helped you smooth down your disheveled hair. 

“Yeah,” you replied shakily. 

“I could’ve helped,” he stated dejectedly, a hint of frustration laced in his tone. 

“I know… I just didn’t want to see you get hurt — _again_ ,” you responded stubbornly, giving him a small tap on the side of his helmet.

“Hey, this whole saving each other’s lives thing only works if it goes both ways,” he argued.

“Save your saving for another time. I’m sure I’ll need it soon enough.” 

He sighed. “I really hope that isn’t true.”

Silence filled the hallway before you had a sudden realization. 

“Hey, how did you know who I was when I first walked up? You were unconscious when I found you yesterday…,” you asked, perplexed.

“When I woke up in the med bay, I asked the nurses how I got there. They told me I arrived with the help of a girl from this sector of the ship. So I came here and waited. I don’t know how, but I just _knew_ when I saw you — you were the one who had saved me.”

“Oh,” you replied, still puzzled. 

“Yeah, pretty weird, huh?” He paused. “Anyways, I should let you get to work — wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“Right,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you around then Finn.” 

“I hope so, _coat thief_ ,” he said with a smirk, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “Stay safe out there.” 

“I’ll try my best, _Mr. Concussion_ ,” you replied, making your way to the door of your new workplace before directing a final wave back at Finn. You watched as he walked down the hallway, stopping at the very end to turn and salute you. You chuckled. _At least I made one friend today,_ you thought. 

You pondered over your father’s words of wisdom: _nothing bad can ever come from helping those in need._ So yeah, maybe that wasn’t _completely_ true. But you could amend the advice a bit, taking today’s events into account: _something good will always come from helping those in need._ So far, despite everything you had gone through, that seemed to remain true. 

With a new spring in your step, you smoothed your uniform, fixed your hair, and held your head high as you walked into your first official workspace, feeling prepared for whatever else you would have to face throughout the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww we love a sweet, supportive Finn! O.O
> 
> I should have another chapter up in the next few days, so stay posted!
> 
> Let me know in the comments what you liked/didn't like/questions you may have. 
> 
> Thanks for tuning in y'all! 
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	4. Waiting for the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin your first official day of work and meet your new coworkers, who turn out to be full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey dudes!
> 
> First of all, thank you guys!! We passed 120 hits today and I couldn't be more happy! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying, or at the very least, reading, this fic. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit slow, but I'm excited to introduce you to some new characters! Things are going to get a bit crazy next chapter, so consider this the calm before the storm. 
> 
> Thank you guys again and please continue to leave kudos/comments! It makes my day :)
> 
> Toodles! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Setting I: The Finalizer**

****

**Setting II (referenced): Lothal**

****

**Setting III (referenced): Dantooine**

****

_**Now a new day comes** _

_**Clears the darkness out of sight** _

_**And the shadows that were sleeping** _

_**Come and dance beneath the light** _

_**And I'm trying hard to hide** _

_**Keep the sun out of my eyes** _

_**Close them tight** _

_**And now I'm waiting for the moon to rise** _

_**~Waiting for the Moon - Belle and Sebastian~** _

* * *

**CW: brief mentions of violence**

You walked through the door, nervously wringing your hands, despite your best efforts not to. Your eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on a large, grey reception desk. Sitting behind the desk was none other than Ms. Stoney, the uptight woman who had “welcomed” you onto the ship the day before. 

You took a deep breath before walking over to her, waiting patiently for her to look up and address you — but she didn’t. You tried subtly clearing your throat, shifting your feet from side to side, and moving into her line of sight, but nothing seemed to grab her attention. Eventually you forced out a meek, “Hi, there!” to which she responded with an annoyed glance in your direction. 

“Oh, it’s _you_ again,” she grumbled with a mix of tiredness and disappointment. 

“Uh, yeah, it is,” you smiled back, which you could tell bothered her. “I’m looking for the artist workspace? I know it’s somewhere within this department, but I wasn’t sure where exactly…” 

“Artist?” she questioned, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah! Ya know, an individual who… does art?” Your attempt at an explanation was met by silence. “Umm… they’re usually covered in some sort of paint or clay, might dress a little funny, are often a little angsty, possibly tormented by some aspect of their past?” More silence. You give a strained smile; you really shouldn’t keep trying to talk over awkward silences. “Not ringing a bell, huh?”

Through clenched teeth she replied,“I believe the _people_ you are looking for are through those doors on the left.” 

She said the word _people_ like it left a bad taste in her mouth. She obviously didn’t think too kindly of them. 

“Great, thanks,” you replied, heading to the door she indicated.

You opened it, and to your surprise you saw no canvases, paint splatters, tin cans, or haphazard brushes littering the room. The walls and floors were a spotless white. A large, circular table was positioned in the center of the room, surrounded by sleek modern chairs and data pads on tripods. This didn’t look like your dad’s studio back home; a place where the remnants of unfinished projects were put on display for everyone to see and learn from. Here, you could already tell: making mistakes wasn’t an option. There was no room for error. 

You returned your attention to what was in front of you, only to have three pairs of eyes meet yours. 

The first pair belonged to a girl of medium height. She had long, slightly frazzled, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that contrasted her pale skin. She jumped when you walked in, her face immediately lighting up when she saw you. The second pair belonged to a taller girl. She had warm, chestnut eyes that complemented her dark, sepia skin. Her hair framed her face in a fan of tight curls. She seemed to examine you carefully, squinting slightly, before turning back to her work. The final pair belonged to a boy of medium height. He had shaggy light brown hair and a tanned, terracotta complexion. He looked at you with curious hazel eyes, smirking ever so slightly. 

The three of them looked to be about your age, somewhere in their 20's. 

The blonde-haired girl ran over to you, pulling you away from your observations. “You must be the new girl!” she exclaimed. “I’m Rilea, your new best friend.” 

You were taken aback by her enthusiastic and cheerful attitude; it wasn’t something you encountered very often on the Finalizer. You laughed nervously. “Oh, uhh… cool?” 

The boy with the disheveled hair spoke up from the back of the room. “Don’t mind her, she has a new best friend each week.” He smirked at Rilea and she threw a box of tissues at him playfully. 

“While that _may_ be true,” she continued, turning to face you, “I can tell that you are going to be my _favorite_ best friend.”

“That’s literally what you say to _every single_ new person you meet,” the boy piped up again. 

“For star's sake, Takoda, why do you have to be such a mudcrutch?!” Rilea shouted at him, frustrated. 

You continued to observe in silence, still adjusting to the rapid shift of atmosphere in this room compared to the rest of the Finalizer. 

You moved to go sit, finding an open seat next to the quiet, curly-haired girl. You gave her a small smile when you sat down, and she returned the favor, scooting her chair over to give you more room. Rilea, and the boy whose name apparently was Takoda, continued to argue like a couple of four year olds. 

“Are they always like this?” you asked the girl seated next to you.

“Yup, pretty much,” she replied. “That is, of course, in between the times when they aren’t getting any work done… and the times when they _still_ aren’t getting any work done.”

You laughed. “Well, at least one person here seems to have a level-head.”

“Make that two,” she said, giving you a smile. “My name is Akilah. What’s yours?”

You told her your full name before giving her your nickname, Wren, as well. 

“Wren…” she pondered. “Not as in Kylo Ren, right?”

“No, no, no, _stars,_ no,” you emphasized. “It’s the name of a- ” You paused, reconsidering. “I actually don’t know where it comes from, my friends just started calling me by it one day...” 

Akilah stared at you intently for a few moments before Takoda shouted over at the two of you. 

“Hey, you two aren’t gossiping about _us_ now, are ya?”

You sighed, “Nope, just getting to know Akilah here.”

Rilea poked her head out from behind Takoda, “She's my bestfriend too!” 

You mentally face-palmed and turned to fully face the group. 

“So, _this_ is the artist workspace?” you questioned, skeptically. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I wouldn’t go _that_ far as to say we are _artists,”_ said Takoda. 

You were confused. “But I thought-”

“You thought wrong. Here, you just follow the rules and instructions laid out for you. We are given colors, words, and images, and it’s simply our job to assemble it all into a neat poster or flyer for distribution.”

“Oh…” you replied, disappointed. 

“I’m not even an artist,” he continued. “They just stuck me here after I was medically discharged from the trooper program. For the most part, everyone in this sector just got placed here because there was nothing else they could do”

“So why did they bother hiring me then?” you questioned. “If I’m gonna be honest, I’m used to a little more creative freedom back home. They could’ve chosen anyone for this job.”

“I don’t know,” Takoda replied. “Maybe they want their propaganda to look good for a change.” He smirked. 

“Where did you say you were from again, bestie?” Rilea asked.

“Oh, I didn’t,” you replied. “I’m from Lothal.”

Immediately, each member of the team looked at each other, worried. 

“Lothal…” Rilea repeated. “That’s one of the Order's targeted planets right now. I have a feeling that pretty soon we'll be distributing posters there. Maybe Hux thinks you can help reason with the people there?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Akilah added. “First Order propaganda would be a lot easier to accept coming from a fellow citizen.”

You pondered their words. What they were saying was probably true: you were simply a tool to be used by the First Order. They didn’t care about your talent or passion; they just needed your image. 

“Well, I don't know how helpful I'd be on that front,” you sighed, pausing. “So what is the project you are working on now?” 

“We’ll know soon enough,” said Takoda. “Our fourth member should be returning soon with our new assignment.”

“Fourth member?” you questioned.

At that moment, the door swung open with a dramatic bang, revealing a tall, lanky boy with jet black hair and evergreen eyes. He was pale with light freckles speckling his face and arms. His eyes narrowed when they met yours, scrutinizing your presence. 

“Look, here he is, ‘fun-sized Kylo’ himself,” Takoda quipped.

Rilea leaned towards you. “He _claims_ that he adopted the whole ‘tormented soul, dramatic hair’ look before Ren even thought of it,” she snickered. 

You were confused, but luckily Akilah came to your rescue. 

“This is Soren,” she explained. “Our fourth member… Well, fifth, now.”

“Oh!” you replied, stretching out your hand for him to shake. “It’s nice to meet you I’m -”

“Irrelevant,” he interrupted bluntly, briskly brushing past you to sit at the back of the room. 

You stood there, hand still outstretched, looking to the others for guidance. 

Takoda spoke first, turning to face Soren. “Hey, laser brain, why don’t ya try being a little nicer to our newest member.”

“ _This_ is our newest member?” he responded, disapprovingly. “She doesn’t _look_ like the First Order’s finest.”

“That’s because I’m not,” you interjected, defensive. “I’m from Lothal originally. Today is technically my first day with the Order.”

At the mention of your home planet, Soren visibly tensed, his fingers curling into tight fists. The other three looked nervously at each other; _they knew something you didn’t._

Akilah, again, interrupted the tense silence. “We should probably get to work… What’s the new assignment Sor?” 

Hearing her voice, he seemed to relax a little, pulling out a few papers with various sketches and color swatches. 

“They want us to design posters directed at the people of Dantooine. The First Order is currently working to establish a blockade on the planet. It is our job to convince the natives to submit, while also showing them that they have the ability to contribute their own assets to our cause.”

You frowned, unsure of a few posters' ability to do such a thing. You were familiar with Dantooine; its history was deeply rooted in rebel allegiance. You doubted that a few pieces of paper could somehow shift the ingrained attitudes of thousands of people. But then again, you _were_ an artist. And as an artist, it was your job to put blind faith into your work, simply hoping that others could see what you saw in it. 

“How successful has this First Order propaganda been in the past?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

Takoda laughed. “Not very. Usually, it just makes the citizens more angry. But that kind of works in favor of the Order: as soon as the rebels and their sympathizers become violent, whatever happens to them at the hands of the Order is then justified, so to speak.”

“What would happen if we tried to mix things up a bit? Like attempting a different style, color scheme, or whatever it may be, to make the posters more effective?” you suggested.

Suddenly serious, Takoda spoke. “No. We don’t do anything without the Order’s permission. _Never._ That’s our number one rule. We can mess around and make jokes all we want in here, but whatever finished product leaves this room has to be exactly what was requested of us.”

Something in Takoda’s voice made it seem like there was history behind this rule — history that didn't conclude with a happy ending. Looking around the room, you knew you were right. Everyone, except for Soren, was avoiding your gaze, choosing to stare at their shoes or the floor. Soren continued to bore into you with a death-glare, but your instincts told you he was like this with everyone and not to take it too personally. 

“Yeah, I get it,” you responded. Soren looked at you sceptically. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. I’m on my last warning with General Hux — another mistake will pretty much guarantee my head a new home in the trash compactor.” 

“Speaking of Hux, we are to report to him tomorrow with drafts,” Soren finally spoke up.

“ _Tomorrow?!”_ Rilea exclaimed. 

“Yup,” Soren replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Of course he would pull something like this, giving us less than 24 hours notice...” Rilea muttered, irritated. 

“Stars, I swear that man is 90% petulant child, 7% attempted scariness, and 3% toupee,” you responded.

This earned a chuckle from the group. Even Soren managed a smirk. 

“Yeah, well, sadly, that _petulant child_ has a big red button sitting under his bony finger that can destroy entire planets in the blink of an eye,” said Akilah, quietly. “So, we should probably get to work.”

“She’s right,” you say, desperate to end any talk of Hux. “Let’s start.”

And with that, the five of you began work on what was your first official project on the Finalizer. Akilah showed you how to accurately read the diagrams that the Order had provided. Rilea and Takoda attempted to work for a few minutes before devolving into yet another tissue paper fight. Soren sat quietly in the corner, working on the new project, glancing up every now and then at you and Akilah. 

Despite the hectic menagerie of personalities that surrounded you, you were glad that you weren't stuck working with cold, robotic First Order employees like Ms. Stoney. You desperately wanted to ask your new friends about their backstories and how they came to be “artists” on the Finalizer, but Takoda and Rilea were busy stuffing tissues in each other’s ears, and Akilah and Soren seemed like the ‘work in silence’ types. You decided to settle with your own thoughts for now; it wasn’t as if you were lacking them. 

It occurred to you that tomorrow you would have to face Hux again, the memory of what he sneered at you in the hallway this morning still fresh in your mind: _Strike two._

You didn’t know what strike three would involve, but you definitely didn’t want to find out. 

_Unfortunately, you didn't get that lucky._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, sorry again for the kinda slow chapter! This being said, things are about to get loco, so stay posted!
> 
> Again, I would greatly appreciate any kudos/comments! And I would love to know who your favorite new character is :)
> 
> Hope you all are happy & healthy! 
> 
> Adios,
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	5. I Wished on the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Here it is, the chapter you've been waiting for. Sorry it took so long to get to this crucial character interaction, but hopefully it was worth the wait!
> 
> I somehow hammered out ten pages of writing today, so sorry (or not sorry, idk) for this big whopper of a chapter.
> 
> Also, I just wanted to put it out there that the pics I put at the beginning of each chapter are just to give some visual accompaniment to your reading. Many of them are not actual depictions of that given place, they're just what I imagined them to be like. 
> 
> As always, if you don't hate what you read, I would love some kudos/comments/bookmarks so I know that I'm doing something right! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me this far — you guys are seriously the best!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Setting I: The Finalizer (Artist Workspace)**

****

**Setting II: The Finalizer (Hux's Office)**

**Setting III (referenced): Lothal**

****

_**Every night was long and gloomy, shadows gathered in the air** _

_**No one ever listened to me, no one wondered did I care** _

_**None in all the world to love me, none to count that stars that hung** _

_**Then the moon came out above me and I saw that it was young** _

_**I wished on the moon for something I never knew** _

_**Wished on the moon for more than I ever knew** _

_**A sweeter rose, a softer sky** _

_**An April day that would not dance away** _

_**I begged of a star to throw me a beam or two** _

_**Wished on a star and asked for a dream or two** _

_**I looked for ev'ry loveliness, it all came true** _

_**I wished on the moon for you** _

_**~I Wished on the Moon - Frank Sinatra~** _

* * *

**CW: moderate canon-typical violence**

The five of you had split up the new assignment, each person responsible for a different part of the poster-making process. The poster itself consisted of the words: **“Maintain Order - Join Us Today”** written in dramatic red lettering, accompanied by a rendering of a caped stormtrooper. Akilah and Soren started by creating the outline. Takoda and Rilea focused on distribution strategies. You, as the only “experienced” artist, were put in charge of the colors and details. 

“This looks good,” said Takoda, checking over the finished poster.

Rilea rolled her eyes. “ _Especially_ having finished this under the given time constraints.”

Soren piped up. “I still think the colors could’ve been a bit more accurate.”

You winced at the pointed jab towards your work.

“Sor…” Akilah gave him a pleading look. 

He held up his hands defensively. “What, Kila? I’m just stating facts!” 

She sighed and shook her head before you finally spoke up.

“I think we did the best we could with the time we had.” Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Now, I’m not sure about you all, but I could really use some sleep.”

Soren stood and began walking to the door. “Fine, go sleep… while you can, at least. We meet with Hux at 9. Don’t be late,” he said with a final glare. 

You tried not to take his words to heart, after all, it was his angst-filled duty to speak in such a way. However, you also knew the importance of tomorrow’s meeting with Hux, and the consequences you were sure to face if anything went wrong. 

The door shut, bringing you back to the present. 

“Don’t mind him,” said Akilah, comfortingly. “He’s all bark and no bite.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “I’m just a bit on edge. I’ll be fine.” 

After saying goodnight to the rest of the crew, you headed back to your room. You realized you had forgotten to eat dinner, but your tired limbs didn’t have enough strength to walk to the cafeteria.

Lying in bed, you thought of Lothal, like you so often did. You remembered how your mom would always make you eat three balanced meals a day, even if you were feeling sick, tired, or sad. Though you may not have appreciated it at the time, you now missed her constant pestering and worried compulsions. 

Here, no one knew you, not really _._ Even your new coworkers would probably only mourn for a day or two before moving on if anything ever happened to you. 

You curled in on yourself, thinking that maybe physical comfort would eventually lead to mental comfort. It was one of those nights where you didn’t want to sleep because you knew that when you did, you would wake up and be forced to face the day. Despite your best efforts, your exhaustion from the day’s activities overpowered you, and your eyes began to feel heavy. Giving into sleep, you internally recited a lullaby your mother used to sing to you and your brother:

_When the moon’s beneath_

_The sun you will meet_

_Who warms the ground_

_Beneath your feet_

_But starry skies_

_Will meet your eyes_

_Only in darkness_

_Before you rise_

_Always with one_

_You need the other_

_Just as a sister_

_Is to a brother_

_So lay your head_

_In peaceful sleep_

_With the moon above_

_And sun beneath…_

As you lulled yourself into a dreamless sleep as your mother’s echo continued to meander through your troubled mind. 

* * *

You opened your eyes slowly, taking in the ceiling above your head. You flailed one arm around, attempting to shut off your alarm, only to realize you hadn’t been woken by one. 

_Kriff. Kriff, kriffity, kriffing, kriff._

You overslept. _Of course you had._ As if the universe felt it hadn’t screwed you over enough this week. 

After another moment of staring at your ceiling with a sense of complete and utter dread, you brought yourself to look at the clock to see how much damage had been done. **8:57.** _It could be worse,_ you thought, _but it also could be a whole lot better._

You raced to get dressed, brushed your teeth, and collected the materials you needed for your meeting with Hux. You grabbed your datapad to discover 15 unread messages. You opened the first few:

**_Sor: Where are you?!!_ **

**_Koda: The meeting is about to start!_ **

**_Kila: Are you okay??_ **

**_Rilea: Please hurry..._ **

You didn’t stop to read the rest and ran out the door, sprinting to Hux’s office. 

* * *

When you finally arrived, you didn’t know what time it was, but you _knew_ you were late. Hux’s door was closed, but you could almost _sense_ the anxiety emitting from the room. You stood there, unable to bring yourself to open the door, before feeling a dark presence behind you. 

“Late, are we?” spoke a distorted voice. 

You didn’t need to turn around to figure out who it was. 

“No, Commander Ren. I mean- yes! Yes, I am. Sorry,” you rambled, terrified. 

Despite this admittance, you still didn’t move. 

_Strange,_ you thought. But you didn’t. That wasn’t your own mind speaking — at least you didn’t think it was… Maybe you _were_ going crazy. And as if you hadn’t embarrassed yourself enough, you found yourself speaking:

“Do you- do you know if we have to knock?” you squeaked. 

The Commander merely stared at you through his mask, head tilted slightly to the side, before he waved his hand. The door slammed open, an invisible force pushing you through unceremoniously. The Commander followed behind, cape billowing, invisibly shutting the door as he did. 

You looked up to see your four coworkers huddled in one corner of the room, and Hux’s flushed face seething in the other. 

“I’m- I’m sorry I’m late, General. I thought I set my alarm, but because of all the work we did yesterday I was just so, so tired and- I guess I completely forgot.” You stared at your feet. 

Silence ensued. 

Akilah spoke up from the back of the room, attempting to distract Hux from your tardiness. “General, we completed the assignment as instructed.” She pulled out the finalized posters and hesitantly set them on the desk in front of her. 

“Do you expect me to walk all the way across the room to retrieve those?!” he forced through clenched teeth. “Bring them to me, _now!”_

Akilah stood, frozen in terror, much like you had been just moments ago. To your surprise, Soren stepped forward, glancing at Akilah briefly, before grabbing the papers and handing them to Hux. Hux snatched the papers out of his hand and Soren silently turned to walk back towards the rest of the group. Akilah caught his glance, giving him a grateful smile, which he returned with a small nod before turning back to you, Hux, and the Commander.

Hux flipped through the papers violently. You didn’t know whether to move towards your friends or stay where you were. You had almost forgotten about the Commander’s presence behind you; he seemed calm compared to Hux's violent demeanor. 

You decided to try and take a few subtle steps towards your coworkers while Hux was distracted, but he immediately saw your movement and stood, knocking over his chair in the process. You stopped in your tracks. He slowly walked towards you, knowing his pace was only escalating the terror you felt. You stood your ground, wanting more than anything to disappear. 

Hux eyed you like he did in the hallway the other day. You saw Akilah tense up, as if preparing to come to your defence, but Rilea put an arm in front of her, holding her back. You were grateful — you didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of your repeated trivial mistakes. 

Hux reached his hand towards your face, making you flinch. He cupped your cheek roughly before grabbing your hair. You hadn’t remembered to put it up into a bun before you left your room, defying direct orders, _again_. 

“I _thought_ I told you to take care of _this,_ ” he said, referencing your hair. 

“Yes sir- General. I was going to, but then the alarm- and the running…” You could barely explain yourself through your chattering teeth. “I usually wear it like this on Lothal - I just wasn’t thinking…”

“You are _not_ on Lothal anymore,” he spat, releasing his hold on your hair. “You may, however, come in handy when it comes to communicating with the _scum_ there.”

You tensed at the reference of your friends and family as scum. Hux didn’t know anything about you or your planet. You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you hated yourself for letting him succeed. 

“They’re not scum,” you replied, as calmly as you could. “They’re _people_ with hard-earned jobs and families. They fought admirably to protect their planet; all they desire is peace.”

“Those sound like Resistance sentiments,” said Hux, threateningly. 

_More like basic human empathy,_ you thought. 

The Commander, still hovering by the door, shifted slightly on his feet. 

“No, no…” You attempted to tread more carefully. “I just think that maybe there is a way to unite the galaxy without using so much… violence,” you nervously suggested. 

Hux eyed you intently. The room was silent except for the sound of your labored breathing. 

“On Lothal,” he started, seemingly happy with what he was about to ask. “Who did you stay with?”

You were taken aback by the question. You didn’t want to give him too much information about your parents — you knew he had the power to eliminate them right then and there. 

“Just my parents,” you replied, staring at the floor. 

Hux smirked devilishly. “What are their names?” 

“You wouldn’t know them. We were just common farmers. And my father is an artist — though he mostly focuses on abstract paintings.” 

“What. Are. Their. Names,” Hux asked again, impatiently, pausing after each word. 

“Why do you need to know?” You began to panic. “I’m telling the truth; they didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“That is for _me_ to decide,” he continued. “Are they Resistance sympathizers?”

“No!” You were frantic at this point. “No, they’re good people, innocent! I swear to the stars!”

He crossed his arms. “ _I don’t believe you.”_

“Please!” you begged. “I’m telling the truth!”

“We’ll see about that,” Hux said, pulling out a datapad. 

“No, wait, please! What are you doing?” you pleaded. “They aren’t Resistance!”

“Why should I believe you?!” he growled, stepping towards you until your noses almost touched. 

“ _Because the resistance killed my little brother!”_ you cried, losing your temper. Emotion flooded from you and you ran your hands through your hair, frustrated. “He was _ten._ He was only ten.”

Your voice faltered as angry tears began to fall from your face. 

Hux was not sympathetic to your pain. “Stop your sob story, I’ve heard too many of those lately. Your brother should’ve known better than to have involved himself in matters that he couldn’t handle.”

And that was all you needed to explode. 

“How _dare_ you talk about him like that! You know don't know anything about me, or my family!” You brought your fist down on the table next to you, pain shooting up your arm. 

Next thing you know, Hux was flying across the room, hitting the wall next to your coworkers with a thud, before crumpling to the ground. A few glasses of water and a nearby vase shattered into pieces. You searched the room, looking for an explanation, but somewhere, deep inside, you knew that _you_ were the culprit. 

You looked down at your hand, flexing and unflexing the muscles, confused. Nothing like this had ever happened to you before. You locked eyes with your coworkers, who stared back at you with open mouths. You were visibly shocked, shaking violently. _How did I do that?_ you thought. _Am I dreaming? Please, stars, let me be dreaming._

But your questions were crushed as Hux regained his composure, rubbing the back of his head, before turning his attention back on you. Fury burned in his eyes as you thought to yourself: 

_This is it._

He reached towards the back of his belt, withdrawing a blaster. You closed your eyes, knowing what was coming…

_But nothing came._

You hesitantly opened one of your eyes, then the other, only to see a wall of black in front of you. 

_Am I dead?_

_No,_ a voice replied. 

You looked up, confused, only to see none other than Commander Ren standing between you and Hux. His back was to you, leaving his cape and silver helmet to occupy your vision.

“Stop,” he ordered Hux, who still had his blaster pointed at you. 

“ _Excuse me?!”_ Hux scowled. “And _why exactly_ would I do that?” 

The Commander waved a hand in front of Hux’s face. 

“You will leave this room with the posters and forget this ever happened,” he spoke. 

“I will leave this room with the posters and forget this ever happened,” Hux repeated. 

The Commander turned towards your coworkers before telling them, “And you will do the same.”

“And we will do the same,” they mimicked, before leaving the room behind Hux. For a moment, you swore you saw Akilah glance at you with concerned eyes as she walked past. You shivered before turning around to face Commander Ren. 

“You are strong with the Force,” he spoke, his low voice vibrating through his helmet. 

“No, no, I’m normal!” You cringed at your choice of words. You basically insinuated that the Commander was not normal, which, he wasn’t, but- 

“Being ‘normal’ has nothing to do with being one with the Force,” he stated, stalking towards you. “Who else knows of your abilities?” 

“No one. _I_ didn’t even know about my abilities until a few moments ago…” You stared at your hands, still in a state of disbelief. 

“Don’t attempt to lie to me. It will not work,” he replied. 

“I’m not lying,” you stated as firmly as your could. 

“Let’s test that, shall we?”

You didn’t like where this was headed. He moved one of his hands towards your head and you flinched, backing into the wall behind you. His hand paused for a moment. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said. You weren’t sure, but you swore you heard the smallest hint of regret in his voice. 

And with that, you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a foreign presence in your mind. It poked and prodded, winding its way through your thoughts and memories. You did your best to block the paths, seal the gateways, and close the doors he attempted to infiltrate, and luckily, you could tell that you were somewhat successful. The Commander was straining, his gloved hand shaking in concentration. Gaining confidence in your mental capabilities, you pushed harder, forcing out every invisible tendril of his mind until nothing remained. 

You opened your eyes as the Commander stumbled backwards slightly, a distorted panting emanating from his visor. You took a few steps back, unsure of what his reaction would be to your blatant disobedience. 

In two large strides he made his way back to you. You tripped over your own feet, landing on the shards of broken glass from the vase you broke moments earlier. You winced, continuing to stare directly into the abyss of black and silver that hid the face of Kylo Ren. 

Without a word, he waved his hand in front of your face. You briefly heard the word _sleep_ enter your mind, before closing your eyes and succumbing to the Force-induced darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry) to leave you on a bit of a cliffhanger. Stay posted to find out what I have in store for our favorite Ginger General, Angsty Space Boy, and newfound Force-Sensitive reader! 
> 
> As per usual, please drop a comment if you have any feedback or questions, or if you are simply bored and want to chat! :)
> 
> Kudos is also appreciated O.O
> 
> With school starting up, I wanna give a quick shoutout to all my fellow students who are having to deal with the whole 'getting an education' thing during a worldwide pandemic. Y'all are awesomesauce. 
> 
> This being said, I might be a little late with the next update, but it should be done by Sept. 2nd at the latest!
> 
> Hope everyone has an amazing week,
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	6. Under the Milky Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try to come to terms with recent events, while also learning more about your upcoming mission to Dantooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Wednesday my dudes! 
> 
> I know it's been a hot minute - I just finished moving into a new apartment so I haven't had the time to post until now. 
> 
> However, have no fear, the writing drought is now over!
> 
> This chapter is a bit more chill than the previous one, but hopefully it will build some anticipation for our protagonist's first official mission to another planet!
> 
> Side note 1: From now on, I think I'll only post "setting" images at the beginning of the chapters for any NEW locations that are mentioned. 
> 
> Side note 2: I decided to post this fic on Wattpad and Quotev as well, so I'll put the links to those below for anyone interested!
> 
> Again, thank you all for the tremendous support (250 hits ahhhh!) and for continuing to be awesome humans :)
> 
> As always, I love & appreciate kudos, bookmarks, and (especially) comments! 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Other platforms to view this fic on:**

[Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/story/238637187-will-o%27-the-wisp)

[Quotev](https://www.quotev.com/story/13018519/Will-O-The-Wisp)

* * *

**_Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty_ **

**_Sound of their breath fades with the light_ **

**_I think about the loveless fascination_ **

**_Under the Milky Way tonight_ **

**_And it’s something quite peculiar_ **

**_Something shimmering and white_ **

**_That leads you here, despite your destination_ **

**_Under the Milky Way tonight_ **

**_~ Under the Milky Way - The Church ~_ **

* * *

**CW: brief mentions of canon-typical violence.**

You opened your eyes to find yourself staring at the sleek, black ceiling of your room on the Finalizer, again. For a moment, you pretended as if you were staring into a starless sky, thousands of parsecs away. However, your eyes couldn’t help but recognize the harsh edges of the rectangular room as recollections of recent events began to hit you in waves.

_I was late to the meeting._

_Hux was convinced I was Resistance._

_He threatened my family. My brother._

_I lost my temper._

_Hux was thrown into the wall._

_And then…_

_Kylo Ren._

Kylo Ren had saved your life, but you knew that an action like that didn’t come without strings attached.

_Why would he step in like that? Why would he erase their memories? Why didn’t he erase mine?_

_Maybe he couldn’t erase mine…_

You had seen how frustrated he had been, straining to gain control of your mind. You had somehow resisted him. _How?_

_Am I immune to the Force?_

_No,_ you thought, Commander Ren had still put you to sleep with the wave of his hand. You couldn't be fully immune. 

_Can I control the Force?_

You had heard the words “Force-Sensitive” uttered around your home as a child. You would put your ear to the door of your parent’s bedroom and listen to their hushed, worried voices as they discussed the Force, wars, and the First Order. You knew that these secret conversations somehow involved your little brother, Benji, but you never knew to what extent.

 _If only I could remember…_

You were interrupted by a soft knock on your door. 

You sat up, a little too fast, and a sharp pain shot through your head. You started to bring your hand up to your forehead, only to look down and discover it had been bandaged. Your other hand was the same. Standing up on weak legs, you walked to the other side of the room, too tired to fix your disheveled appearance. 

You were surprised to see Finn standing on the other side of the door when you opened it. He was still wearing his trooper garb, but held his helmet in the crook of his arm.

“Finn!” you exclaimed.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at the mention of his new name. 

“W-what are you doing here?” you questioned, looking past him down the hallway to see if something was wrong. It was empty save for a small droid that whirred around the corner. You raised an eyebrow as you turned your attention back to Finn.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay…” he replied, shifting on his feet nervously.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you answered, attempting a smile, despite your confusion at his sudden arrival. _Had he just assumed something was wrong, or did he know something about what happened earlier?_

When he didn’t respond right away, you continued. “Why do you ask?”

He looked down at his feet uncomfortably. 

"Well, early this morning I was making my normal rounds and stuff when I heard loud noises coming from one of the nearby rooms. It sounded like glass shattering and then there was a loud thump.” He paused. “I guess something in me just told me to stop, so I waited outside the door and kept listening. After a minute or so, Hux and four others left the room without even looking my way. The door shut again, and I waited a little longer." He paused again, fidgeting with his gloves as he prepared to tell you what happened next. "You can only imagine my absolute horror when Commander Ren came out a few moments later. Once he saw me, he ordered me to take the ‘girl on the floor’ to her room immediately and then he just left. So I did what he said: I went into the room, saw _you_ lying there, found your key card, and brought you back here. That was about five hours ago…”

You concentrated on each of his words, your thoughts spiraling uncontrollably. You let out a large breath of air. _At least he didn't see what I did to Hux,_ you thought. 

“These,” you said, referencing your bandaged hands, “Was this you?”

Finn blushed slightly. “Uhh yeah,” he replied nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “You must’ve cut them on the glass and I didn’t want them to get infected or anything so I... Well I kinda just decided to-“

“Finn,” you interrupted, halting his anxious monologue. “ _Relax_ , it’s okay. Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course,” he replied, breathing a sigh of relief. “It was _my_ turn, after all.”

A bout of silence passed before you spoke up again. 

“Don’t- don’t you think it’s a little weird that the Commander asked you to bring me here?”

Finn chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I mean, considering he left _me_ in the middle of the hallway with a serious head injury…” 

“Right…” you replied, mind spinning. You had only seen the Commander a few times... Why would he put his reputation at risk like that? And why didn't he want the others to know about your powers? Your head was starting to hurt again, your list of unanswered questions growing longer and longer.

Finn's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Can I ask, if you don’t mind of course, what happened in that room?”

You shook your head incredulously. “I’m not sure I could tell you if I tried…”

He paused, swallowing hard. “Was it the Commander? Did he... hurt you?” Finn asked, his features laced with concern. 

“No, he didn’t,” you replied, surprised by your own words. “Hux tried to… but then the Commander, he stopped him. I- I don’t know why.” 

You didn’t feel like disclosing the _whole_ story to Finn yet, not when you barely comprehended what happened yourself. 

He hummed in response. “Yeah, that _is_ out of character for him. He’s usually the un-pitying type.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed as you felt your stomach rumble. _When was the last time you had eaten?_ You looked back up at Finn. “Well, I appreciate you checking up on me nonetheless. And thank you again for these,” you said, waving your bandaged hands. 

“Of course — anything for my savior!” he said, bowing dramatically and shooting you a wink. 

You smirked in response. “I should probably go get something to eat. I’m starved.”

“Right! A harrowing encounter with two of the galaxy’s most feared men can do that to ya. I’ll walk you to the cafeteria.” He stepped back from the doorway, giving you room to pass. 

“No, no — you don’t have to-” you started.

“I insist,” he interrupted, gesturing to the hallway with one hand. 

“It’s really not necces-”

“ _Please.”_

You knew this was one battle you were not going to win. 

“Okay, _fine,_ ” you agreed, throwing your hands up in surrender. 

He smiled in victory, making you roll your eyes, before gently placing his hand on your back and ushering you into the hallway. You followed him out, wishing you had taken the time to clean yourself up a bit before heading into the public. As you passed countless troopers and lieutenants, you couldn’t help but feel as if they were all staring at you. Finn looked down, having noticed that something was bothering you, before squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Relax,” he said quietly. “We’re almost there.”

You merely nodded and let him guide you through the large set of double doors that marked the entrance of the cafeteria. 

Once inside, you took in your surroundings, eventually focusing on a table to your left that sat four familiar faces. Upon seeing you, Akilah and Rilea waved you over. Soren still hadn’t looked up from his food, but that was as expected. Takoda, however, was staring at you and Finn with an intensity you had never seen out of him before. 

Squinting, Finn looked over at the table, before looking down to his feet, serious. Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, you asked him if he was alright. 

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled quickly, avoiding your eye contact. “I gotta go though, so I’ll see you later.”

He gave you a rushed smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, before directing a final glare at your coworker’s table and exiting the cafeteria. 

_I wonder what that was about?_

You walked over to your friends' table. Rilea smiled at you as you sat down. 

“There’s my bestie! What’ve you been up to? We haven’t seen you since the meeting with Hux.”

You tensed at the mention of his name. Rilea seemed to be her normal, happy self, too happy to have remembered what _really_ happened during the meeting. 

“Yeah... I was just kind of tired, so I took a nap,” you replied, earning a curious look from Akilah. 

Your eyes wandered over to Takoda, who was being quieter than usual. By this point in a conversation, he usually would have started a fight with Rilea or made fun of Soren’s hair. Instead, he was staring at his plate, twisting his fork in gray mush. 

“You good Koda?” you asked.

“Yeah, fine,” he replied, unconvincingly. 

“Koda here is not a big fan of that buckethead you were talking to a second ago,” Soren piped up, a small smirk on his face. 

You were surprised. “Finn- I mean, FN-2187? But he’s so nice!”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know him like I do,” Takoda replied gruffly, not looking up. 

You decided to let the matter rest for now, but you would be sure to ask him about it later. Right now, you needed to focus on making it through the next couple of days without any near-death experiences. 

“So any news on our next assignment?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Technically our last assignment isn’t over,” replied Rilea. “Now we have to distribute.” 

“ _We_ have to distribute?” you asked, shocked. “I thought they had troopers do that or something.”

“Dantooine is a very unstable planet,” she explained. “It’s pretty risky attempting to bring the people and resources there to the our side. Many are affiliated with the Resistance and feel _very_ strongly about First Order interference. Hux wants all the troopers he has to be ready to fight, not busy taping posters to trees. So now, that duty is on us.”

“It sounds dangerous,” you replied. 

“That’s because it _is_ dangerous,” Soren said, rolling his eyes. 

“It’ll be fine,” Rilea reassured, shooting a glare at Soren. “We’ll fly in, put up some posters, fly out, take a nap, and repeat.”

“Yeah, well… I’m really looking forward to the napping portion of the mission,” you said, giving Rilea a small smile. 

“Speaking of napping,” Akilah spoke up, “We should all get some sleep. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”

“ _Tomorrow?!”_ you nearly shouted. “We’re leaving _tomorrow?”_

“Yep, bright and early,” she replied. “8 o’clock sharp.”

With a communal sigh, the five of you stood up with Rilea, Soren, and Takoda heading to the door. 

“Don’t be late!” Akilah shouted at them before turning to you and whispering, “ _Again.”_

With a small smirk, she whipped her head towards the door and exited the cafeteria, not looking back. 

You just stood there, shocked. 

_Did she know I was late to the meeting with Hux? The other’s didn’t seem to remember… Maybe she is- No, stop. You're just being paranoid. Calm down. Pull it together..._

* * *

Back in your quarters, you paced the floor, attempting to figure out how a mere artist like yourself could possibly prepare for a visit to a dangerous planet armed with nothing but a pile of propaganda posters. 

Back home, your mother had started to teach you self-defense skills, but after what happened to your brother, your father decided to keep you away from anything involving violence. Though your mother argued that violence affected people whether they wanted it to or not, your father preferred to remain ignorant to that side of the world, refusing to believe that you would ever need to learn to fight. At the time, you wanted to remain ignorant as well, but now you were faced with the harsh reality of the galaxy and you found yourself wishing that you had spent more time learning how to protect yourself. 

A loud knock sounded at your door. You looked at the clock. **11:35.** It was almost midnight; who would be coming to see you this late? 

_Maybe it’s Hux,_ you thought, _coming to finish what he started..._

You cautiously crept to the door, grabbing a decorative obsidian statue that sat on a nearby shelf. You held it as you would a lightsaber, ready for any incoming attack. 

You took hold of the doorknob, and with a deep breath, swung the door open, hard. Your confident stance quickly devolved to one of terror and embarrassment as you found yourself gazing up at the one and only Kylo Ren. 

You quickly brought the hand holding the statue behind your back, attempting to regain a semi-normal posture. 

The Commander noticed the slight movement and cocked his head curiously. 

“Oh! Commander, I- I wasn’t expecting you. I was just… redecorating.” 

He continued to stare, and you continued to babble. 

“What do you think,” you asked, pulling out the statue from behind your back, “Should this go on top of this shelf or the dresser?”

He merely brushed past you, slamming the door behind him with an invisible arm, before turning to stare at you once more. 

“You…” he spoke. His voice rumbled deeply, like the beginnings of an earthquake. “You’re strong with the Force.”

“I’m not-” you started, prepared to deny it. But something in you felt that the Commander could see through your facades, so you reluctantly decided to tell the truth. “I don’t mean to be.”

He hummed through his mask, taking a few steps closer to you. You looked up at his visor and your thoughts began to twist and turn, as they so often did. If what the Commander desired was face-recognition throughout the galaxy, why did he always hide behind his mask? A small part of you wondered if he was self-conscious. You couldn’t think of any other reason that he would wear it, except maybe for protection in battle. The idea of an all-powerful Commander like him being self-conscious should’ve been comical, but for some strange reason, it only made you sad. You wondered what he was protecting himself from — why he remained so guarded. You imagined the first time he ever put his mask on — what led him here, to _this_ ? Many on the Finalizer considered his choice to conceal his face weak, but to you, something about his insecurity was comforting. It made him seem more… _human._

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the reemergence of his voice. “You will be joining myself and Hux on the mission to Dantooine tomorrow.”

Though he phrased this as a statement, you knew it still required a response. 

“Yes, Commander.”

He continued. “You must not disclose your Force abilities while on this mission.”

 _Why does he even care?_ you asked yourself, though it was a question you couldn't bring to ask him. 

His fists clenched at your silence. “Answer me, _artist!”_

“Yes! I mean- yes, Commander, I’ll try,” you replied, honestly. 

“You either do as I say or you do not, _trying_ is not an option,” he spoke, threateningly.

You were beginning to get frustrated. 

_It’s not like I have any control over it._

“You could, with the proper mentor.”

_Did he just-_

He let out a distorted sigh. “Yes.”

_You can read my-_

“Yes,” he answered again, obviously annoyed. 

_How?_

“I don’t know. All I do know is that your pesky thoughts are seeping their way into my head, and I need them _out_. Until I can figure out how to do that, you must not reveal your abilities. I spared you from Hux once. Next time he, _and I,_ won’t be as forgiving.”

Something still was bothering you. “Why did you… stop Hux?”

“Because you have information that I needed, that I _still_ need, about Lothal, the Resistance, _you.”_

“Lothal?” you asked nervously. “Why do you need information about Lothal?”

“Although Hux and I don’t always see eye to eye, I feel he was correct about _one_ thing he noted in the meeting I witnessed this morning. He mentioned that you could be used to bargain with the people of Lothal, convince them to submit to our cause. As I recall, you seemed rather averse to the idea.”

“I- I…” You tried hard not to say anything that would endanger you, or the people you cared about. 

“Why do you hesitate?” He stepped forward. “What is it about this planet that makes you so pathetically _weak?”_

You stayed silent, the anger within you threatening to boil over. His voice was soft, quiet, _menacing._

He took another step forward. “Is this about your brother, the one who was killed by the Resistance?”

Your body clenched as fury rolled off of you in waves. “ _Don’t speak of matters you know nothing about.”_

He slowly looked you up and down, almost curiously. “I’ll find out soon enough… You _will_ give me what I seek once we return from Dantooine. Until then, I would appreciate it if you would not start any more fights with your superiors.” 

You nodded as he turned to walk away from you. He stopped right before reaching the doorway, back still turned. 

“It looks better on the wardrobe,” he said quietly, before opening the door and moving into the hallway, his cape billowing like a black river behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerned Finn, angsty Koda, enigmatic Akilah, confusing Kylo, and constantly-in-a-state-of-panic Reader... a lot of emotions goin' on in this chapter. 
> 
> Stay posted to see what happens when our Reader travels to Dantooine for her first official off-ship mission!
> 
> Drop a comment/kudos, if you feel so inclined O.O
> 
> Ciao!
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	7. Rocket Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You embark on your first mission off-board the Finalizer, but only to learn that trouble tends to follow you no matter where you are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations! 
> 
> I was feeling inspired, so here's another chapter for you. This was definitely my favorite part to write so far, so I hope you enjoy it! It's also one of the longest chapters I've written so far (10 pages!)
> 
> Leave a comment/kudos if you liked it as much as I did!
> 
> Also: 300 hits!!! You guys are awesome!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

**Setting: Dantooine**

****

* * *

**_I think it's gonna be a long, long time_ **

**_'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find_ **

**_I'm not the man they think I am at home_ **

**_Oh no, no, no_ **

**_I'm a rocket man_ **

**_~ Rocket Man - Elton John ~_ **

* * *

**CW: strong canon-typical violence, blood**

This was your first time in the hangar since Ms. Stoney had rudely ushered you to your quarters on your first day onboard the Finalizer. 

As you entered, you were once again faced with the great speckled wall of never-ending space. The scariness of its infinite expanse reminded you of the first time you ever saw the ocean. 

You were ten. You and your family had traveled to a remote part of Lothal for your father’s birthday. He had been wanting a change of scenery to spark some new inspiration for his paintings and your mother had surprised him with the impromptu vacation. 

You didn’t remember much from that trip, but you did recall your older brother, Doran, attempting to teach you how to swim. 

_ “Move your arms like this, and your legs like this,” he said, demonstrating the correct movements. _

_ You crossed your arms defiantly. “I still don’t understand why you want me to learn how to swim. We don’t live anywhere near the ocean!”  _

_ Doran’s eyes lit up. “Maybe someday you will. Maybe someday there’ll be a huge rainstorm and the whole world will flood, and you, thanks to me, will be the only person on Lothal who knows how to swim. You’ll escape, start your own civilization, and be queen of the new world.” _

_ You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “So you’re saying, if I learn how to swim, I’ll become queen of the world?” _

_ He smirked. “Precisely.” _

_ You looked to your mother, still not fully believing him. “Ma, is that true?”  _

_ She shrugged. “Crazier things have happened.” _

_ "Okay, fine. I’ll learn how to swim. But I don’t want to be queen.” You look out to the vast ocean, trying to find its end. “It would be much too lonely to rule the world on my own.” _

As if on cue, you were pulled from your memory when the First Order’s _own_ ruler entered the hangar, accompanied by General Hux and a brigade of stormtroopers. 

The Commander and General made their way onto a small private shuttle, while the troopers entered a larger one to their left. You, Akilah, Takoda, Rilea, and Soren followed behind the troopers. 

* * *

The ride to Dantooine was cramped and bumpy, but much shorter than you imagined it to be. 

When the shuttle lowered its ramp for the troopers to exit, the view you were met with left you breathless. 

Your eyes were embraced by a kaleidoscope of colors. Green hills framed small valley villages like nature’s very own picture frames. Blue skies provided the perfect backdrop. Pink and purple flowers dotted the rolling ground and ancient trees towered over them, almost protectively. 

Takoda laughed, nudging you forward, “What, you’ve never seen a tree before?”

“Not like this,” you replied, awestruck.

He sighed, looking around, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I suppose this place _is_ kinda special.”

You laughed. “You  _ suppose? _ ”

Rilea appeared next to you. “Koda lived here for a while; he’s used to it’s ‘specialness’ by now.”

You turned back to Koda, surprised. “You lived  _ here?  _ On Dantooine?” 

“Yep, a long time ago,” he sighed again. 

This shocked you. “Even though there’s so many Resista-”

You are silenced midway through your question as General Hux began to speak to the group. 

“All of you have your missions. This should be a quick, easy job. Myself and Commander Ren will be speaking with the leaders here. Troopers, only engage with citizens if absolutely necessary. If any resist violently, kill them. We will not waste our time on wannabe rebel scum.” He turned in your direction. “You five, distribute the posters and try not to get yourselves killed.” He pauses. “You are all dismissed.” 

The crowd dispersed as you turned to face your team members.

“Well that was downright  _ inspiring,”  _ Soren quipped sarcastically. 

Rilea scoffed, “ _ You’re  _ one to talk, Mr. Melancholy.”

Soren rolled his eyes.

“So how does this work?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“I think it’s best if we split up,” Rilea said, “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

“Sounds good!” Koda replied. “Meet back here in an hour?”

We all nod. 

Akilah speaks up. “Just remember: keep your head down. Try to put up the posters when there aren’t too many people nearby. If you get into any trouble, run back here. Got it?” 

We all nod again.

“Good. I’ll see you all in an hour,” she said before walking away.

You start in the opposite direction, towards a thick tree-line at the edge of the meadow that the shuttles landed in. 

After walking for about twenty minutes, you came across some small buildings — a mix of houses, tiny shops, and public amenities. 

You took out your stack of posters, pulled one off of the top, and taped it to the building closest to you. 

_ Success.  _

You found another building with a white wall, pulled out a second poster, and had just started to put it up when you were approached by three men. 

“What do you think you’re doing, First Order  _ scum _ ?”

_Why_ _ is it always me?  _

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” You took a step back, smiling. “Just putting up some posters.”

The man nearest to you, who was sporting a floppy brown haircut, spoke next. “Posters… is that what you call ’em?” he laughed. “ _ We  _ usually refer to them as First Order trash!” 

He walked towards you, stumbling a little, and snatched the poster out of your hand before crumpling it into a ball. 

The man smelled like beer and looking around, you noticed that the building you decided to tape your poster to was a cantina. 

_ Great. _

The man threw the crumpled-up poster in your direction and you stumbled backwards, dropping the rest of the posters on the dirt below.

“What a shame,” one of the other men said sarcastically. He wore a dark blue shirt that was ripped on one sleeve. 

You attempt to stay calm. “Look, I don’t want any trouble — I’m just doing my job.”

“Ha!” the floppy-haired man scoffs, looking at his two comrades. “We’ve heard that one before, haven’t we boys?”

“Yeah!” the man with the ripped shirt shouted emphatically, “Were you ‘just doing your job’ when you murdered my brothers and sisters? When you destroyed our houses? When you stole our land and resources?”

You were lost for words. “I- I’m sorry. I truly am.”

“You really think I’m some bantha-brained idiot?” he replied, infuriated. “If you were ‘truly sorry’ you wouldn’t be putting up those posters.” 

“I know, it’s just-”

The floppy-haired man spoke up again, a sinister smile on his lips. “You know what boys, I think we should give the Order a taste of their own medicine.”

You didn’t like where this was going. “Please, let me just-”

Before you could get another word out, the man had grabbed your arm roughly. 

You tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he was too strong. You could try using your newfound powers, but you remembered what Commander Ren had told you:  _ don’t reveal your Force abilities while on the mission.  _

Thinking quickly, you were able to bring your knee up to hit him where it hurt, and he stumbled back momentarily, cursing. 

The other two men surged forward, slamming you into the wall behind you. Your head made contact with the hard surface and you saw stars. 

Feeling dizzy and disoriented, your body slid to the ground, as the men began to search your pockets.

“What- what do you want?” you managed to choke out, still dazed from the impact on your head. 

The man you had hit, having recovered from your blow, made his way back over to you. 

“Shut up, you  _ sithspit.”  _

His words spurred a surge of energy within you, and you did your best to grab and scratch at the hands that were searching your pockets, only to have the floppy-haired man backhand you,  _ hard _ . 

Your cheek stung, and so did your emotions. You felt angry. Hurt. Constricted. Frustrated. Trapped. 

A familiar sixth sense began to build within you, begging to be released from your body. 

_ No, no, no,  _ you thought.  _ Remember what the Commander said. Remember what he said. Don’t disappoint him. Not again.  _

You felt the sense within you retreat and you breathed a sigh of relief. Your head was pulsing to the painful rhythm of your panicked heart. You could feel blood seep from the spot on your cheek where the man had hit you. 

The guy with the blue shirt, having found the credits you had brought along with you in case of emergency, shouted in victory.

“We’ll be having a big feast tonight, fellas!” he shouted, holding out your coins for them to see. 

"Wait-” you started, knowing that without those credits, you’d be pretty much broke. 

“What did I say, girl —  _ shut your mouth!”  _

You felt a heavy boot make contact with your already nauseous stomach.

Your eyes glazed over, silent tears falling, as you curled into the smallest ball you could manage. It was what you did as a child whenever you heard the X-Wings and TIE fighters exchanging fire above your house. 

Your ears suddenly picked up the sound of another pair of heavy footsteps approach from a nearby alley. 

Through bleary eyes, you watched as each of your attackers were lifted off the ground and thrown into the wall opposite to you with sickening crunches. 

You shuffled back as fast as you could, given your current state, not wanting to incur the wrath of whatever it was that approached you. 

Your back hit a hard wall and you could do nothing more than shut your eyes and shield your head with your arms, preparing for the imminent attack.

“Stop.” 

A voice sounded from in front of you. 

_ A familiar voice. _

“Commander,” you whispered, hoarsely. 

He knelt down, his mask scanning your slumped body. 

“You need medical attention,” he said, in his typical ‘stating a question as an order’ tone. 

“Yes, I think you may be right,” you responded, letting out a pained chuckle. 

He continued to stare at you, intently, through his visor. You began to feel a prickling at the back of your head, much like the time in Hux’s office. Except now, it was gentler — comforting. And this time, you embraced it, letting it in completely. 

After a moment, the prickling stopped. 

The Commander looked down for a moment, as if uncomfortable with what he was going to say next. 

“You- you didn’t defend yourself,” he said in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded confused, conflicted.

“I tried,” you said, rubbing your hands, which were still sore from clawing at your attacker’s limbs. 

“I  _ meant _ with the Force,” he continued. “You felt prompted to do so with Hux, and yet with this more... threatening encounter, you refused.”

You gazed up at him, surprised that he didn’t already know the answer to his own question. 

“You told me not to,” you said simply, looking at him, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards. 

“And you would rather risk death than defy my orders?” 

_ Finally,  _ you thought.  _ A genuine question.  _

“I trusted that the reasons behind your orders were important,” you replied, confident in your explanation. 

He seemed taken aback by that. Maybe he wasn’t used to people following his orders because they ‘trusted’ him. Instead, he was probably used to them following his orders out of fear _.  _

You started to stand, but your stomach reeled at the attempted movement. You sucked in a sharp breath of air through clenched teeth and put a hand on the wall behind you for stability. 

Your head was spinning — you had hit it harder than you thought. Lights danced before your eyes, making it hard to see. 

The Commander’s cloaked shape rose next to you, and as your eyes followed his movement, you realized you had almost forgotten how  _ tall  _ he was. 

He reached a gloved hand towards you, slowing slightly when he got close, almost as if he was expecting you to flinch.

You didn’t. 

He took that as a sign to continue his maneuver. Placing one arm below your shoulders and the other at the backs of your knees, he wordlessly lifted you off of the ground and into his arms. 

You were on the brink of consciousness, but managed to whisper a final “thank you” before drifting into an unrestful sleep. 

* * *

When you woke, you weren’t in your bed like before. You looked down, only to realize you were still in the arms of your Commander. 

Slightly embarrassed at your vulnerable state, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep, as to avoid any potential awkwardness. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

_ Kriff.  _

You opened a hesitant eye and looked up at the source of the deep, rumbling voice, but his mask was pointed straight ahead, on the trees in front of him. 

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice coming out hoarser than you wished it to.

Still looking forward, he responded. “We’re almost back to the shuttle.” 

“Oh,” you replied. 

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you; no noise was present other than the breeze blowing the leaves of nearby trees and the sound of the Commander’s boots crunching twigs and branches at a steady pace beneath you. 

His walking slowed as you neared the edge of the tree line. You looked past it to see the larger meadow where the First Order shuttles were situated. 

The Commander came to a complete stop and looked down at you quickly, before bringing his eyes back to the clearing ahead. 

There was that strange emotion again:  _ confliction. _

_ He probably doesn’t want to be seen carrying me,  _ you thought.  _ Too much visible empathy isn’t good for his menacing reputation… _

You decided to speak up first — making the decision for him. “You can let me down now, I’m fine.” 

He shifted his glance downwards as you moved in his grip. However, instead of letting you go, as per your instructions, he maintained his tight hold. 

You wished you could read his mind like he had read yours back on the Finalizer. 

_ What was he thinking?  _

_ Why does he seem so conflicted all of a sudden?  _

_ Why is he helping you, again? _

Suddenly, as if in response to your questions, waves of intense feeling washed over you. 

_ Anger. Frustration. Confliction. Curiosity. Reluctance. _

It took you a second to realize that these weren’t your feelings, they were  _ his.  _

Shocked by your sudden intrusion into his mind, he looked at you, tilting his head slightly to the side, before guiding you to stand on your feet. The Commander remained silent as you leaned on a nearby tree for support. 

He glanced between you and the shuttles, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. 

“Go,” you waved him in the direction of the meadow. 

He didn’t move.

“Go,” you spoke again, softly, attempting a smile. “ _ I understand.” _

Seemingly content with your reply, he nodded his head slightly, and headed into the meadow, cape blowing in the breeze behind him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you waited for five minutes, giving the Commander enough time to get to the shuttles before you followed. 

The pain in your head, cheek, and abdomen increased, so you began to stumble into the meadow, hoping to make it to the shuttles before you passed out again. 

Luckily, a familiar voice called your name. 

“Guys, come on — I found her!” Akilah’s words sounded across the meadow. 

Your exhaustion got the best of you, and you crumpled into the soft grass beneath you. 

“Sor, come help me!” 

You looked up to see Akilah’s worried face, followed by Soren’s confused one. 

Koda and Rilea followed close behind, but Akilah soon directed them back towards the shuttle to warn the medical crew of your arrival. 

She directed her attention back at you, smiling. “Here, hold on, we’ll get you back in no time. Sor, grab her other arm.”

You felt your body lift off the ground, Akilah holding up your left side and Soren holding up your right. 

“Wait,” you spoke, barely a whisper. “I- I dropped the posters.”

Soren looked at Akilah. “Is she serious right now?”

“Umm… I’m really not sure,” she replied, frowning. “Could be her head injury.”

“We better get her back,” Soren replied, as the two of them helped you back to the shuttle. 

They laid you on a makeshift bed and the on-board medic began attending to your injuries. 

You used the last of your strength to lift your head slightly to search for Commander Ren, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Dropping your head back onto the pillow, you closed your eyes, finally embracing the comforting darkness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finally remembers to breathe* 
> 
> Ahhhh, that was a crazy chapter! But sooo worth it to see a different side of our favorite conflicted Commander. 
> 
> What did you guys think? O.O Let me know in the comments!
> 
> As always, thank you guys for continuing to read! It makes my heart happy.
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	8. Space Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from the events that took place on Dantooine, you learn more about Finn and Takoda's complicated pasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Here's another update. Sorry it took a while to write - for some reason I was struggling with this one. It's more of a filler chapter, but is very fluffy and gives a bit of insight into the past's of some of our fav side-characters. I promise next chapter will be much more Kylo-centered!
> 
> Also, in case it wasn't obvious, I made all of the backstories up. This chapter is not intended to be canon-complaint.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support; It's been one month since I posted my first chapter and I still can't believe that almost 400 of you have read this chaotic story.
> 
> As always, your lovely comments & kudos keep me writing, so feel free to leave some!
> 
> I hope y'all have a fantastic rest of your weekend!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters.

* * *

_**It will take a while** _  
_**To make you smile** _  
_**Somewhere in these eyes** _  
_**I'm on your side** _

_**~ Space Song - Beach House ~** _

* * *

**CW: mentions of canon-typical violence**

It had been three days since your mission to Dantooine, and you still hadn’t wrapped your head around what had happened there. 

Rilea kept asking you if you were alright, and you always responded with an enthusiastic yes. Any other response prompted a long, worried conversation about stress following traumatic encounters, followed by a rant on the violence perpetrated by patriarchal societies. She wasn’t wrong, but you just didn’t feel like talking about it. 

Akilah kept asking you how you escaped. You could tell she didn’t buy your story — and _she_ knew that _you_ knew that — but wanted to make you admit it anyways. _How_ she knew this still remained a mystery, one you couldn’t discover unless you revealed something about yourself that you were determined to keep a secret. 

Soren was quiet, as usual, but instead of shooting you his typical iconic glare, he had been avoiding your eye contact completely. 

Koda, on the other hand, was furious. For some reason, he felt guilty for what happened, despite the fact that he was miles away at the time. You told him over and over that it _was_ not and _could_ not be his fault, but you could tell that your words were not enough to appease his guilt. 

Based on Koda’s reaction, you felt as if you _should_ be more angry about what happened, but you understood why the men had attacked you. Years of pent up anger, frustration, and loss, mixed with the alcohol they had most likely consumed earlier, had combined to incite the unfortunate turn of events. You had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

_No, I should be more mad,_ you shamed yourself. _They attacked me. Hit me. Kicked me. Watched as I gave up._

A knock sounded on your door. You already knew who it was. Ever since Finn found out about what happened on Dantooine, he had started showing up everywhere you were: inside the cafeteria, throughout the hallways, and now, outside of your room. 

You sighed, making your way to the door. You opened it, and just as expected, found Finn there, helmet in hand, smirking at you with a sheepish grin. 

“Finn…” you drew out his name, as if patronizing a small child. He looked back at you with apologetic, yet pleading, eyes. “I already told you, _I’m fine.”_

“I know what you _told_ me,” he said, stubbornly. 

_Darn his freaky emotional intelligence._

You rolled your eyes. “Well, since you are already here, I _was_ wondering if I could ask you something.”

He nodded enthusiastically, eager at the opportunity to help out. “Yeah, of course. Anything.”

You ushered him into your room, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, you continued, knowing he wouldn’t like what was coming next. 

“What’s goin’ on between you and Takoda? It’s just… you both are so sweet and it’s weird to see you guys act so _distant_ around each other.”

He smirked. “Well, first of all, we’re sweet around _you_ — I _am_ still a trooper, remember, so I can’t be this charming _all_ the time.” 

“Right,” you said, cheeks reddening slightly as you rolled your eyes. “But why the lack of _charm_ around Koda?”

He sighed heavily, avoiding eye contact. “Koda and I… We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Such as…” you inquired further.

“Such as the trooper program.”

That didn’t make any sense to you; Takoda had never spoken about the program before.

“Why would Koda be interested in the trooper program?” 

The room was silent.

“Because he was one.” 

“Koda was a trooper??!” You couldn’t picture it. As hard as you tried, you just couldn’t. He was too silly, too full of life. But the same was true for Finn, and he was a trooper too… 

“Yup,” he replied, somber. “We were in the same fleet too. We always had each other's backs.”

You thought for a second, processing the new information. “So what changed?”

He hesitated, looking down at his feet. You’d never seen him look this sad before, and it made your own heart feel heavy. 

“A couple years into his program, Koda got injured.”

“Injured — how?”

“We were on a planet with a heavy rebel presence. Our orders were to… eliminate a village that housed supposed Resistance sympathizers. We went in with grenades,” he paused, choking on his words. You looked up at him, reaching out and grabbing his hand, supportively. He nodded appreciatively and continued. “At one point, a trooper next to me threw one. It landed by a little girl, maybe nine years old. Koda jumped forward — pushed her out of the way. He ended up catching most of the blow. I can’t honestly say that I would’ve had the courage to do the same. I hid my grenades in a nearby bush and ran over to him; he was hurt badly. So the med guys took him, and he was airlifted outta there.”

You squeezed his hand, gently urging him to continue. “What happened next?”

“I visited him in the hospital a few days later. He told me he’d been ‘medically discharged’ and was free to go wherever he wished… I was so happy for him. Not many stormtroopers get that kinda opportunity to start over, live their _own_ life. Many injure themselves on purpose to get discharged, but usually they’re too obvious about it and end up executed on the grounds of ‘treason’.”

You shook your head in shock. “Stars…” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “So I asked Koda what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go… I mean, the possibilities were endless for him! But he surprised me. He told me he wanted to stay with the Order, try to make it 'better'. I couldn’t believe it — especially given _his_ background.”

“What do you mean, _his_ background?” you questioned. 

“Koda hasn’t told you?” he said, eyes widening. 

“Told me what?”

“Kriff…” he mumbled. “I think that’s something you should discuss with _him_.”

“Yeah, okay...” You paused, thinking. You were still confused about one thing. 

“So Koda refused to leave the Order, and you and him just… stopped talking?”

He sighed, his hand leaving your grasp to run through his hair. He seemed frustrated, not at you, but at the newly-unearthed memories of his past.

“It’s not as simple as that. Koda had a _choice._ He had a _choice_ to join the trooper program, and a _choice_ to leave it. I _never_ had a choice. I was forced into it. It was either this, or death.” He paused, sighing, before lowering his voice. “Had I known what it would be like here, as a trooper, I _would’ve_ chosen death.”

Hearing that tore your heart in two. “Finn, _please_ , don’t say that.”

He threw up his hands. “It’s true! Being forced to tear apart planets, villages, houses, families, _people…_ It’s horrible. Sickening.” He paused. “I- I had almost given up hope completely, when all of a sudden _you_ came into the picture.”

You gave him a sad, appreciative smile. 

“Anyways, he had a choice to leave this life, and he said no. I’ve never had a choice, but if I did, I would be out of this place in a second. That’s why we don’t talk anymore.” 

“I see.” You paused. “Finn, I-” 

Words couldn’t describe how incredibly sad you felt that such a strong, empathetic man like Finn had been forced to endure so much pain. 

You reached out and pulled him into the biggest hug you could manage. Your eyes prickled with tears. “I’m so sorry Finn, I’m so, so sorry,” you whispered over and over into his ear. 

After a few minutes like that, you finally pulled away to see Finn smiling warmly at you. How could he still do that — _smile_ — after everything he’d gone through?

“Hey, I just thought of one good thing that came out of me staying in this stupid trooper program.”

“What?” you asked, genuinely interested. 

There was that sheepish smile again. “Well, if I left, I never would’ve met you.”

You didn’t deserve a friend like Finn. 

“And _I_ would’ve never met you…” 

You grabbed his hands in yours and held them to your forehead. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. It was your turn to worry. 

“I wish there was more I could do for you,” you whispered. 

He shook his head. “You’ve already done so much.”

“Not enough,” you replied.

He sighed, bringing both your hands back down to your lap. 

“Listen, there’s something about you — I don’t know what — that gives me hope, and I don’t use that word lightly. I felt it from the first, or should I say the second, time I met you.” He laughed, his eyes brightening. “If anyone can change the way things are in the galaxy right now, it’s _you.”_

You looked at him, wondering where this blind trust was coming from. He had only known you for a short amount of time… You finally understood why the Commander was so surprised by your _own_ blind trust in his orders. 

“I should get back,” he said, standing up. “But please, try to remember what I said.”

After giving you one last hug, he put on his helmet and made his way out of your quarters, leaving you to your thoughts.

* * *

You spent the next few hours reflecting on your conversation with Finn. You found yourself desperately wanting to find out more about Koda’s enigmatic background. 

After pacing back and forth across your room a couple hundred times, your curiosity finally got the best of you.

_I have to go talk to Koda. I need to find out what he has been keeping from me._

You found him sitting in the artist workspace, alone.

He didn’t seem to see you at first, so you cleared your throat, announcing your presence.

His head jerked up, startled. His brown hair was a bit more disheveled than usual, and his hair fell over his face slightly.

You smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, I was just spaced out for a sec,” he smirked. “I’m back now.” 

A moment passed before his features became more serious. “How are you feeling?”

This was the first time you’d really talked about what happened on Dantooine with Koda. Most of what he knew was from Rilea’s retellings.

You shrugged. “Fine, considering. It could’ve been worse.”

He looked down, wringing his hands uncomfortably. “Why wasn’t it… worse? How did you end up getting away?”

You couldn’t tell him what _really_ happened — it’s not like he would believe you if you did. You settled for a half-truth instead.

“I managed to kick one of the guys who jumped me and while he was distracted, I made a run for it. That’s when you guys found me in the field.”

He shook his head, still looking at his hands. “Kriff… I’m sorry. We should’ve never split up.” 

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I just seem to be a magnet for trouble,” you chuckled, trying to bring up the mood. 

He nodded, unconvincingly. “So what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be in a hospital bed or something?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ah, they won’t miss me,” you smirked, earning an eye roll from Koda. “I actually came here because I wanted to ask _you_ about something.”

He squinted in your direction. “Uh oh, you have serious voice on.”

You laughed before continuing, “I just wanted to ask you about Finn.”

“Ahh…” he said, as if he knew this conversation was coming. 

“I already talked with him today, so now it’s _your_ turn to endure the wrath of my nosiness.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, letting out an audible sigh before rolling his shoulders and assuming a more comfortable position. “What do you want to know?”

You continued hesitantly, not wanting to offend Koda or worsen the tension between him and Finn. “Well, we talked about why you two don’t get along and how you chose to stay with the Order after you were discharged from your trooper duties. Finn mentioned — and please, don’t get upset that he told me — he was surprised by your decision… especially considering your _background._ What exactly did he mean by this?”

Takoda paused, looking at you as if considering something. Finally, leaning towards you slightly, he continued. “What I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room, alright? People onboard wouldn’t think too kindly of me if they knew.”

You nodded. “Of course, Koda, I would never do something like that — never.”

His hazel eyes met yours as he spoke in a low, serious voice. “I wasn’t born First Order. I was born Resistance.”

He looked up at you, attempting to gauge your reaction. When you didn’t look angry or disgusted, he continued. 

“I was pretty independent from a young age. My parents were never home. They were always working on something Resistance-related. They were pretty much _consumed_ by their work. One year they even forgot my birthday,” he huffed, looking to his feet. “When they hadn’t come home by dinnertime, I left the house. I walked for hours before I came to a small village. A group of off-duty stormtroopers walked by, chatting about their latest mission, and I approached them.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“At that moment, all I wanted was to be a part of something. A team. A community of people that truly had my back. I couldn’t join the Resistance, not after what it had turned my parents into. So I asked the stormtroopers, begged them, to let me join them. FN-2187, or Finn, as you call him, was there. He was against it. The others that were with him, however, were all for it. So just like that, I went with them.”

You were surprised. “So the Order just let a random kid into their program?”

“Pretty much. At the time they were desperate. Less and less people wanted to be a part of the trooper program. They took anyone they could get. So, I signed up, trained, and fought as a stormtrooper. Finn took me under his wing. Kept me outta trouble.” He paused, his eyes downcast. “He was like the only true family I ever had. Then I got injured, Finn got mad when I decided to stay, and they transferred me here, to this job.” He looked up at the ceiling, releasing a dry chuckle. “Funny thing is, I found out years later that my parents had missed my birthday, _their own son’s birthday,_ to attend some random Resistance diplomat’s birthday party instead. Talk about the ‘Parent of the Year’ award…” 

You were starting to appreciate your family on Lothal more and more. They weren't perfect, but they had never forgotten your birthday.

“Listen, I know I can’t change how they treated you, but please believe me when I tell you that they are missing out. Big time.” You smiled at him. “You have the biggest heart. They don’t deserve you. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but Finn truly did, and does, want the best for you. He cares about you so much, but is too stubborn to admit it, just like another _certain someone_ I know.” Koda rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not saying you should forgive him right away… I just think that second chances are important, and are something that Finn has hardly ever been offered in his life.”

Koda sighed dramatically before speaking again. “Fine, maybe someday, in the very, very, _very_ distant future, I will _consider_ talking to Finn.”

You smiled, satisfied. “Good.”

“But _only_ so you will stop bugging me about, like I _know_ you will.”

You smirked. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

He shook his head, looking at you incredulously. “You know, you’re pretty good at the whole active listening while subtly brainwashing thing. It’s annoying.”

You smirked. “I have lots of experience.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do… So, is my interrogation over?”

“I suppose it is… for today at least.” You looked at the papers laying on the table next to Koda. “What were you up to?”

“Oh,” he started, looking a bit flustered. “I was just trying to sketch something up.”

A twinge of anxiety hit you. “What? I didn’t know we had a new assignment already!”

“No, no, it’s not for a new assignment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It’s for Rilea.”

“Rilea…” You smirked, knowingly. “I _knew_ something was going on there.”

The look of panic on Koda’s face was almost comical. “What? No! Nothing is going on! The going is off. A hundred percent off.”

“Wow, consider me convinced,” you replied sarcastically. 

He shook his head emphatically. “I swear, we’re just friends… not even that! We’re basically enemies.”

You smiled devilishly. “Alright, I’ll be sure to let her know the next time I see her.”

The panicked look on his face turned to one of pure terror. “No! Please! Ugh. Just- just don’t say anything alright?”

“Whatever you say, Koda,” you said, once again smiling in victory. “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your project.” 

You walked back towards the door, stopping briefly before you exited. 

“And Koda?” You turned to face him. “Thank you.”

He looked back at you, confused. “For what?”

“For not giving up.”

And with that you made your way out of the workspace and back to your quarters. 

* * *

Upon arriving in your room, you headed straight to the bed, face-planting into the pillows. You sighed loudly before turning onto your back, casually scanning your eyes over the space. Something on the floor next to the door caught your eye: a white slip of folded paper. 

You stood up, making your way over to the mystery letter. The word **_artist_ **was written on the front. Opening it up, you found it simply read:

**_Meet me in room E23 tomorrow night at 8. This is not a request._ **

**_Commander Ren_ **

You chuckled; of _course_ he had to add the ‘this is not a request’ bit.

Alarm bells soon began sounding in your head. You wondered what this meeting was about: Were you in trouble? Was this about your Force abilities? Were you being led into a trap?

But there that strange feeling was again: _trust._

For some strange reason, you trusted that the Commander wouldn’t hurt you. After all, he’d proven as much over the last few days, after saving you from Hux _and_ the men on Dantooine _._

You thought back onto your conversation with Finn, remembering how he told you about the way he was _forced_ into the trooper program. It shocked you that some troopers had attempted to injure themselves to get discharged from their duties. You recalled how Finn, himself, said he would have rather _died_ than have accepted his position with the First Order… 

If that’s the way these seemingly robotic and unempathetic troopers truly felt, then what was to say that the Commander was any different?

You had seen him in battle — you had found footage on your data pad. He was fueled by emotion; each strike of his fiery crossguard blade exploded with passion. 

Though this raw emotion scared most, it enticed you — it gave you _hope._

An excess of emotion was always better than a lack of it. 

Maybe the Commander was forced into his role, just like Finn was. Maybe he had no choice but to join the Order. Maybe that’s why he wore his mask: to distance himself from his true feelings, from his inner conflict. 

Of course, you knew more than anyone… 

_Things aren’t always as they seem._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay posted to find out what the Commander wants to discuss! 
> 
> Big things are happening next chapter - Big, big, things!
> 
> Thank you all so much for hangin' with me this far; I never expected this totally self-indulgent fic to reach so many people. 
> 
> Also, I'm sending all the good vibes to my readers on the West Coast who are dealing with the horrible forest fires. Love you guys! 
> 
> See ya soon,
> 
> xx Hazel xx


	9. We Are All Made of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A devastating secret is revealed - one that you will never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> I am so, so, so, so, sorry it has been three months since I last updated, school has been kicking my butt. That being said, as an early holiday treat, here is another chapter for y'all! It is dialogue-heavy, but we learn a lot about two of our favorite characters (and I promise the next chapter will be action-packed). 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through these crazy times. I hope you are all finding ways to enjoy the holidays - 2021 can't come soon enough!
> 
> As always, kudos/comments are welcomed and appreciated :) Sorry again for the long wait - hopefully it was worth it. 
> 
>   
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

* * *

_**People they come together** _

_**People they fall apart** _

_**No one can stop us now** _

_**'Cause we're all made of stars** _

_**~ We Are All Made of Stars - Moby ~** _

* * *

**CW: minor canon-typical violence**

**A brief recap: You have recently recovered from your injuries following the events on Dantooine. The Commander has asked you to meet with him today, but you are unsure what he wants to speak to you about.**

You walked towards the room that the Commander had told you to meet him in. It was in a section of the ship you weren’t familiar with; red lights lined the sleek black walls and it was quiet in comparison to the bustling area closer to the command center. Needless to say, walking the near-empty corridors made you nervous. 

And rightfully so.

Because at that moment, as you rounded a corner, you found yourself barrelling right into none other than General Hux.

 _Why am I like this?_ you thought to yourself, amused by your constant poor luck. 

You stumbled backwards, mumbling an apology as Hux recovered. His features screwed into an expression of disgust. 

_“You.”_ he said through gritted teeth. “What do you think you’re doing here? This area is restricted. We don’t allow artist _scum_ here.”

You didn’t want to reveal the true nature of your visit to this section of the ship, so you tried, and failed, to think of another excuse for your location.

“I- I was…”

He chuckled, a sinister grin spreading on his face. “Lost for words now, are you? That would be a first.”

When you continued to stay quiet, Hux took a predatory step towards you, his long, angled nose merely inches from your face. You shut your eyes tightly, attempting to block out his anger and ease your own.

He raised a finger in front of your nose but you held your ground defiantly. “Speak _girl,_ I asked you a question!”

 _"Hux!”_ a voice sounded from down the hall, interrupting the interrogation. 

The General's expression soon turned to one of irritation as he spun to face the individual who had spoken. You recognised the voice immediately as that of the Commander. 

“I _requested_ that she come to this part of the ship.” He calmly walked towards you and the General. “I take it you won’t keep her from our meeting any longer.”

“What would you want from _her?”_ he scoffed, eyeing you with disgust. “She’s just a piece of Lothalian trash-”

Suddenly, his voice was cut off as he brought his hands up to his throat, grasping at an invisible force. You took a few steps back, taking in the scene before you. After a few moments, Hux was released and he crumpled to the ground, coughing and sputtering. The Commander then turned towards you. 

“Come,” he said, before turning and walking back in the direction he came from. 

You followed behind him, looking back at Hux, who was still on the ground. You knew you would be in trouble the next time you crossed paths with him, but now, you simply revelled in the sight of him lying helpless on the floor. 

It wasn’t long before you arrived in front of a large metallic door. With a wave of his hand, the Commander wordlessly opened it, revealing a small, black room. Your eyes, however, were glued to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the far wall. 

“Wow,” you said, entranced by the speckled expanse of darkness. 

“Sit,” he ordered, avoiding eye contact. 

You did as he said, bringing your legs up in front of you and draping your hands over your knees. Silence enveloped the room and as much as you hated small talk, you despised awkward silence even more. 

You couldn’t take it any longer. “So are we gonna play patty-cake or are we just gonna sit here. On the floor. In silence.”

A sigh emanated from his modulator. “You are well aware that you are force-sensitive.”

 _Ah, so that’s what this is about._ “I guess, though I still am unsure as to what that entails.”

“The Force is a field of energy, created by all life, that connects everything in the universe. Those who are force-sensitive are highly attuned to its flow; they can sense and manipulate it to their will. Less than one percent of the universe’s population has the ability to do this.”

This was the most you had ever heard him speak and you hung onto every word. “And I’m one of those one percent?”

“With proper training, yes, you could be.”

This confused you. “But why do I need to be trained? It’s not like I’m some soldier who could use it in battle; I’m an artist! What would I gain from it? ”

He answered quickly and straightforwardly. “Power.”

You hated that word. It was too often used to justify war. “But I don’t want power; I _want_ peace.”

“Peace only comes from power,” he responded robotically. 

You shook your head in disagreement and let your eyes wander to the sheet of space before you. You thought of your dad, and how he always knew how to deescalate a tricky situation. Or your mom, who was always putting others before herself. And of course your little brother, who always saw the best in everyone and everything. 

You smiled fondly. “I think peace comes from _empathy_.”

“You’re being naive,” he sighed. 

You shrugged. “Or hopeful.”

He responded as if reciting from a First Order textbook - _if that was even a thing,_ you thought _._

“Hope is dangerous. It distracts us from our fears.”

 _"And_ gives us the confidence to confront them,” you retorted confidently.

He was starting to grow frustrated, his gloved fists clenching and unclenching. “You should always go into a fight imagining the worst possible outcome, not _hoping_ that you will somehow make it out unscathed.”

“But hope provides us with something to fight _for,_ and without that, we’re powerless,” you thought deeply, choosing your words carefully. “You were wrong before. Peace doesn’t come from power, _power comes from peace.”_

He silently searched your face, as if tracing each line would help him figure you out. You noticed a shift in his body language; he looked on edge, hesitant, _nervous._

“I want to try something. I am going to attempt to see into your mind - and I want you to try to stop me.” 

“Haven’t we done this before?” you smirked.

“Yes, however, I want you to replicate your actions, _control them_.”

“And why would you help me keep you out of my mind?”

He fidgeted with one of his fingers. “There are people on this ship that wouldn’t be happy with me engaging with someone so dispositioned to the Force, as I am.”

This surprised you. “Who, Hux? He hardly seems like a threat you’d be concerned about.” 

“Yes, Hux. But there is another. Someone I answer to.”

This surprised you even more. You couldn’t imagine the Commander answering to anyone but himself. “And why would this person be so against you training me?”

“He would believe his power over me would be jeopardized. He would perceive you as a threat.” 

You scoffed. “ _Me, a threat?_ Does he know who I am? I tripped over a chair in my room last night and _apologized_ to it. I mean, it’s just my personal opinion, but that definitely does not give off the most threatening of vibes.”

“Well, unfortunately, he does not care about your opinion.”

You paused, considering all the new information you just learned. Knowing that the Commander was following another’s orders should’ve made you nervous, but instead you had hope that maybe some of the bad things he had done in the past weren't completely his doing. 

“Alright, fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”

He nodded silently. As he brought his hand to your temple, you couldn’t help but flinch. Surprisingly, he stopped his movement. 

“I’ll make it as painless as I can.”

You stared up at him, astonished by his uncharacteristic comment, before nodding. He slowly continued his maneuver. 

You felt nothing at first, only a small tingle at the back of your skull. Like vines on a tree, you felt the tingle form tendrils and reach across the expanse of your head. You focused on each one, imagining walls being built in front of each. But the vines were persistent. They snaked up the cracks of your walls, making their way to the top. You tried making the walls taller, but there were too many; you couldn’t keep up. You managed to keep most of the vines at bay, but one vine slipped its way over the top of the wall, and started its descent to the other side. 

As it did, flashes began to hit you in small bursts. With them came visions, _memories._

_You and your older brother, Doran, sat on a blanket, watching as your little brother, Benji, played in the dirt a few feet away._

_“Why does he do that?” you asked Doran._

_“Why does he do what?” he replied._

_“Play in the dirt like that. It’s gross.” You watched as Benji squished a handful of mud in his hand, smiling._

_“Maybe he sees something in it that you don’t.”_

_“Like what?”_

_Doran looked at his younger brother fondly. “I dunno. He’s always been like that - perceptive. He lives in his own little world.”_

The scene twisted into another. 

_“Wait up!” Benji shouted as you both raced down a steep, rocky hill, giggling like idiots_.

You remembered this day. You won the race.

_As you neared the bottom, you turned, only to see your brother trip._

This was new… You didn’t remember that happening. 

_Expecting him to stumble off of the rock he was standing on, you lunged forward._

_Only, he never fell._

_You watched as your brother hovered in the air, horizontal to the ground, arm outstretched in front of him._

_“Benji-”_

The vision changed. 

_Your mom and dad whispered in the living room of your house. You watched from the crack of your bedroom door. Their whispers were rushed, panicked. You could tell something bad had happened._

_“We can’t just give him to them to use as a weapon,” your father said, frustrated._

_Your mother responded, frowning. “He is old enough to know what his sacrifice would mean.”_

_“Sacrifice?!” he whispered, astonished. “So you admit it! Handing him over is a death sentence!”_

_Your mother sighed. “No, that’s not what I meant.”_

_Your father interrupted before she could say another word. “It’s exactly what you meant! You want to send our ten year-old son to fight for the Resistance.”_

Your heart sank.

_"He could save millions of lives.”_

_“If he isn’t killed first!”_

_“He will be well-protected. They’ll take care of him.”_

_“For the wrong reasons! All they want is another weapon to use against the Order.”_

_“He’s already said yes.”_

_“He is being manipulated, and so are you!” Your father took your mother’s hands, pleading with her, begging her, for some sort of understanding. “Listen, just the other day he told me that someday, when the ships don’t fly above our house so often, he wants to study plants. That’s what he loves to do: look at the little plants, watch them grow, sprout leaves, bloom flowers… He’s just a boy. Our boy.”_

_She sighed. “I understand, trust me, I do… but think of all the other little girls and boys who will die if we don’t do this. I won’t be responsible for that kind of pain.”_

_“I just-”_

_“I know… but it has to be done.”_

_Your father looked down at the familiar dust-covered floor. His voice lowered in defeat. “The children can never know. Especially her,” he said, nodding to your bedroom. “It will put them in danger. We will tell them we sent him away until the land is safe.”_

The scene changed again.

_You stood in the doorway of your house. Your brother waved goodbye to you as he walked towards a small ship, hand in hand with your mother. You smiled, turning around before he did, and heading back into the house._

Why, why did you turn around? Why didn’t you keep looking for just one more second?

The scene presented itself to you over and over. You couldn’t escape it. You heard a voice, calling your name, urging you to escape your own mind. 

“Hey… _Hey!_ Wake up!”

You shot straight up from your position on the ground, panting. A face hovered over you - one you didn’t recognize. You shuffled backwards, startled. 

“It’s me! It’s just me.”

You faintly recognized the voice - it was similar to one you had grown accustomed to over the past few days, except this one was less distorted and slightly higher in pitch. 

“Commander?”

He nodded, looking away. Your bleary vision made it hard to see the man before you. You could discern a pair of deep, hazel eyes. They reminded you of one of father’s paintings; your _favorite_ painting. It depicted a forest, with trees that touched the clouds and pinecones that littered the ground. You could practically smell them right through the canvas. Endless shades of green stood out against the stormy sky. It all seemed peaceful, yet full of life. 

You brought yourself up onto your elbows, before scooting back towards the wall for support. You remained silent for a moment, processing the recent turn of events. You finally spoke, eyes wide, face blank.

“They killed him.”

The Commander looked back at you, confused. “Who-”

“My parents…” you interrupted, still in shock. “They killed him.”

He remained patient. “Killed who?”

“My brother,” you responded, the immensity of the secret you had just unearthed beginning to hit. Your vision became clouded, hot droplets hitting your tights. “My little brother.”

The Commander looked down, as if attempting to decipher a riddle. He spoke slowly.

“I thought you said he was killed by the Resistance.”

“He was,” you responded, running your fingers through your hair. You were angry now; angry at your parents, the Resistance, the constant wars and fighting. “But not in the way my parents described. They told me that there had been an _accident_ . That an X-Wing crashed and he had simply been in the way. But he hadn’t just ‘been in the way’. He was _on_ that X-Wing. The whole time they were using him - using his abilities - to help them win the war. I didn’t remember before. They must’ve done something to make me forget...”

The Commander looked at you strangely, his hazel eyes trained on yours, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

“What a surprise,” you let out a breathy chuckle, raising your arms in exasperation. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”

He remained still. “I never said that.”

Your emotions began to swell, and unfortunately, you projected your anger onto the Commander. “Well if you cared at all about my brother’s death, then you wouldn’t be blowing up planets on an everyday basis!”

“I have my orders,” he said, flatly. 

You stood abruptly. “You can _choose_ not to follow them! You’re no better than my parents - sending innocents off into a war that isn’t even being fought for them.” 

The Commander stood and spoke with a slight irritation in his voice. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about.” 

You paused, looking him up and down. You let out a humourless chuckle, knowing you probably sounded crazy. “You think you are so powerful, hiding behind that mask. But now I know… you’re just a man. You follow blind orders and when someone calls you out on your cowardice, you throw a temper tantrum like a spoiled toddler. Do you have _any_ thoughts of your own?”

He whipped his head towards you and spoke through clenched teeth. “If I didn’t have thoughts of my own, you would be dead right now.” 

“Tell me them then!” You were yelling now. “Why would you care what happened to my brother - what happens to me? Why _would_ you?”

“Because I _was_ your brother!” he boomed. But his powerful voice didn’t match his eyes; they looked desperate, scared, like he was a little boy again. You took a hesitant step back. He noticed this and took a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. “I was… _used_ for my abilities. And when they became too strong, I was perceived as a threat.”

Your mood softened, surprised by his sudden vulnerability. You searched his eyes gently. “ _Who_ thought of you as a threat? The Order?”

He looked down, his hair concealing his pained expression. The room’s red glow cast somber shadows on his face, but just for a second, you swear you saw a flicker of light dance across his face. 

“You can tell me.”

He shook his head, the shadows having returned, and avoided your eyes. ‘I’ve already said too much. I’m... I’m not the only one who can read minds.’

"There is someone else? Someone like me?”

He answered immediately, facing you with a stoney stare. “No, _nothing_ like you.” He paused, regaining his impassive composure and putting his mask back on. “You can’t know - It is not safe.” 

You started to open your mouth to protest, but a blaring alarm interrupted. You jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected noise. The door to the room you were in slid open with a hiss. The Commander spun around, activating his lightsaber. You had never been this close to it before; it crackled with a furious energy that both scared and enticed you. 

Your focus made its way back to the opened door, where two terrified officers now stood. 

“C-Commander, General Hux wishes to see you. He- he says it is urgent.”

The Commander stalked towards the officers, lightsaber still activated. The officers shrunk into themselves, anticipating their demise. 

“Leave.” 

The officers nodded vigorously, before running back the way they came. The Commander turned to look back at you. 

“I have to go. I will be in contact with you soon.”

“Wait, I just wanted to say...” you paused as he stopped his movement. “You only become a threat to others when you become a threat to yourself. Always remember who you are. That’s what is important - that’s what makes us powerful.”

Your eyes met his masked expression in a moment of deafening silence. You caught his focus shift to the windows behind you, the stars reflected in the black slit where his eyes had been moments before. 

An image flashed before your eyes briefly, except this time, it wasn’t yours: Stars surrounded you. You could make out two gold cubes hanging from someplace above. A small hand emerged from behind you, attempting to grab the shiny objects, but it couldn’t reach them. It kept reaching, and right when you thought it was going to touch them, everything went black.

_When you opened your eyes, you were alone again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst is real (but stuff is about to go doooown, so stay posted)!
> 
> Off topic (kinda), but who here has been watching The Mandalorian?? I am obsessed - It's a problem. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys again for sticking with me despite my three-month absence. You are amazing :)
> 
> Happy holidays,
> 
> xxHazelxx


	10. Marquee Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission to your home planet, Lothal, takes an unexpected turn - one with deadly consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with a huge whopper of a chapter. Pretty sure this one is my longest yet! I experimented a bit with my writing style and tried to include a better balance of dialogue and description, so hopefully it paid off. So much happens in this chapter, so I'm very excited to see what you guys think! Let me know in the comments :)
> 
> Thanks to all of you who read/left kudos/comments since my last update. It definitely motivated me to step up my game and get another update out to you guys asap. <3
> 
> As always, I hope you all are doing great and are having a fantastic start to the new year (2021, please don't fail us). 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

* * *

_**Life in the hive puckered up my night** _

_**The kiss of death, the embrace of life** _

_**There I stand 'neath the Marquee moon** _

_**Just waiting...** _

_**~ Marquee Moon - Television ~** _

* * *

**CW: canon-typical violence, blood, emotional distress**

You walked into work the next day exhausted, but happy to see your friends again after a weekend of ‘mind training’ with the Commander. The moment you passed through the doors to the artist workspace, a pair of arms launched forward and wrapped around your neck. You automatically knew who they belonged to. 

Rilea squealed with delight as she released her hold on you. 

“Stars, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

You laughed, regaining your breath as you pushed her away gently. “It’s only been a few days, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

Koda piped up from the back of the room. “Thank stars you’re back - I’ll finally have help keeping this one sane.” He gestured towards Rilea.

Rilea turned to Koda, putting her hands on her hips defensively. “And what makes you think she will choose _your_ side in this debate?”

Koda crossed his arms confidently. “Because I wasn’t the one who accosted her with aggressive hugging the moment she walked in the door.”

Rilea scoffed. “Some people actually appreciate mutual displays of affection, thank you very much.”

You sighed. _Glad to be back._

Despite the unrelenting “arguing,” you were thankful for the sense of normalcy being around your friends gave you. It was exactly what you needed. 

Rilea and Koda didn’t seem to be nearing the end of their bickering match, so you made your way over to Akilah, shaking your head. “Have they been like this all day?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Try all week.” 

“Oof, sorry I missed it.”

Akilah shot you a knowing look. 

You laughed. “Okay, not _that_ sorry.”

Soren emerged from the back of the room with a pile of posters. He slammed them down on the table, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. 

Koda rolled his eyes. “Pfassk Soren, what did the paper do to you?”

He ignored Koda’s quip and spoke without looking up. “We have a new mission.”

 _Great,_ you thought. _Just what I needed._ “Where to this time?” 

Koda and Rilea wandered over to the papers Soren was inspecting when he didn’t respond right away. You and Akilah hung back, waiting for an answer. After a moment, you noticed the three of them exchange nervous glances before looking back up at you.

“What is it?” You were starting to get worried. Usually if they were quiet for this long, it meant something terrible had happened.

Rilea was the one who broke the silence. “The mission’s on Lothal.... We leave tomorrow.”

* * *

Making your way off of the First Order transport ship and onto Lothalian land felt strange. Having your friends and coworkers step on the ground as if it was any other planet didn't sit right with you - _this was your home_. 

It was just how you remembered it. Rolling plains extended before you like a savannah ocean. The sky formed a collage of sun and clouds, creating smoky orange shadows on the horizon. The breeze billowed through your hair, mirroring the movement of the tall grass at your feet. An ancient stone circle could be seen in the distance; you used to play on one just like it when you were a kid. 

Everything looked the same...

_But everything felt different._

You knew Hux was planning on sending you to Lothal, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon considering your experience on the last mission to Dantooine. He had sent you to the city of Kothal, mere miles from where your parents lived. There was no way Hux could’ve known their exact location, but you were on edge nonetheless. The purpose of this mission was straightforward: distribute First Order propaganda, demand the immediate submission of citizens, and fire if necessary. 

The ships you arrived on were small, consisting of your coworkers and a handful of stormtroopers. Hux and the Commander were on a separate ship stationed closer to the city center, where they were planning to speak to leadership. You watched as a few troopers lined up beside you. One stopped directly to your left, reached down, and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You jumped, startled, before realising who it was. “Finn?”

The trooper nodded. 

“What are you doing here? This isn’t your squadron! You need to go back, you could get into troub-”

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s fine.” He chuckled lightly. “It’s too late to go back anyways.”

You looked from side to side before leaning closer to him. “If Hux finds out about this…”

“He won’t. Now quit your worrying.”

“Not likely,” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “You never answered my question: why are you here?”

“I heard they were sending you off to Lothal.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “That Hux is one bantha-brained idiot.”

“You came here because of me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Where you go, trouble follows. Figured I wouldn’t want to miss the excitement.” 

You knew that behind his mocking tone lied a more serious concern. “If this is about Dantooine…”

“No, I told you: I am entertainment-starved! Plus, I needed to get off that ship for a while - so _chill out_.”

You lifted your hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I’m cool as a dead star.” You looked around at the other members of his crew. “You should get back to your troops.”

“If you insist.” He bowed dramatically. “Just holler if anything moderately exciting happens.”

You laughed. He always had the ability to make you do that. “Will do.”

He started to leave.

“Finn?”

He turned to face you a few feet away. “Yeah?”

You threw a grateful look his way. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet!” He walked backwards a few steps with a casual confidence you admired. “So far this mission has been as uneventful as crew cleanup day.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” You smiled. “I’ll see ya on the flip Concussion Commander!”

He saluted in response. “You too, Coat Thief.”

* * *

The day’s work had gone well. You stuck with Rilea and Koda for most of it, while Soren and Akilah went off on their own. The three of you made your way across town putting up posters, with the only violent encounter coming from a hungry loth-cat who had mistaken your foot for food. 

You recognised a few faces here and there, but did your best to turn around when you did. You received a few disgruntled comments from villagers about how you were a “traitor” and had become a “gray coat.” However, despite Hux’s intentions for you to submit Lothalians to the ways of the First Order, you ignored such comments and continued your business. 

By the evening, you still had a third of the posters to distribute. You were desperate to get off of the planet as soon as possible, so when the others went to eat dinner, you hung back and continued to work. 

As you meandered through the winding streets, you unconsciously led yourself down the road that led to your old home. Most villagers had turned in for the night, leaving you alone in the now silent town. You looked up at the sky, which was beautifully clear. A breeze wisped a piece of hair in front of your face, but you didn’t mind; you loved the crisp air on Lothal. The air on the Finalizer felt so processed and artificial, so dependent on machines and technology. Here, breathing felt so natural - so in tune with the swaying grass, bristling spine trees, and blooming flowers that surrounded you. You hoped that someday you could come back without the pressures of work or war. _Someday..._

Your moment of peace was soon disturbed by a growing sense of unease in your gut. You noticed that the crickbeets, which would normally be loud at this time of night, had stopped chirping. _That’s not good._

You realized that in the midst of your daydreaming, you had lost track of where you were heading. It was dark, making it harder to see where you were. You stepped towards a streetlight, and gasped when you realized where you had ended up: 

You gazed up at the front door of your parent’s home. 

You looked down at your clenched fists and took a deep breath. You could turn around, you told yourself; It’s as easy as putting one foot in front of the other. But you knew deep down that this was something you had to do for yourself. _For Benji._ Before you did anything rash, you decided to circle the house to scope out the situation; you didn’t think anyone would be awake at this time of night. 

You didn’t expect your mother to be there this time of year either. She was probably stationed in some big city for her work, as usual. Your older brother had moved out a couple years back and you hadn’t heard much from him since. You weren’t sure about your dad, though. Usually he stuck around the house, painting. 

To your surprise, a single light emitted from the small kitchen window. The same window you waved goodbye to your brother from before he was killed. 

_You needed to see them._

You knocked on the door. _No answer._

You knocked again, louder this time. _Still no answer._

You knocked a third time, and the door flew open, almost hitting you.

A tall, gray-haired man appeared in the doorway. He wiped his paint-covered hands on the front of his apron, grunting in frustration. 

“It’s the middle of the night, for star’s sake! What do you wa-”

Your father looked up, finally recognising you. 

“Daisy?”

It was his nickname for you. 

“Dad.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, before hastily beckoning you to enter. “W-what are you doing here?”

You took a few cautious steps into the front room. “We were sent on a mission here.” 

“We?” He moved to look behind you as he searched for any sign of others. 

“Me and my friends.”

He jerked his head back to face yours. “ _Friends?”_ He moved closer to you, bringing his voice to a forced whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be making friends _._ ”

“Better than making enemies.” You remained cold towards him, remembering the purpose of your discussion. “Speaking of which, where’s mom?”

He took a cautious step back, catching onto your dark witticism. “She’s stationed at Jalath for the next month.”

You nodded your head, remaining silent, before your father finally brought himself to ask the question that had been lingering on his mind since you first spoke: 

“What’s wrong?”

You brushed past him and into the living space of your old home. Not much had changed, though to be honest, there wasn’t much to change. The room was small, with a packed dirt floor. A few of your father’s paintings sat on wooden easels throughout the space, and even more decorated the walls. Your eyes found your favorite one, the one with the rare and beautiful spine trees that reminded you of… 

Your thoughts trailed off when you saw the painting to its left. It was a portrait of your little brother, smiling from ear to ear, awe-struck by a small caterpillar that sat on his pointer finger. You hadn’t seen this before. 

“You lied to me.”

Your father furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Lied to you… What are you talking about?”

“About Benji. About his abilities. About _everything_.”

He remained silent for a moment, finally realizing what you were referencing. “Daisy-”

Your pent-up frustration got the best of you. “You told me he was killed in an accident. An _accident!_ But it was you. You and mom. You sent a little boy out to his death, and then you lied to me about it!”

“We had no choice…” He gave you a pitying look, one that only made you more angry.

“You _always_ have a choice!” Your hands tore through your hair frantically. “I mean, _stars_ , what kind of person could bring themselves to do that?!”

You felt the emotions in you rise, along with the enigmatic ability that you were desperate to keep hidden. Before it was unleashed, a loud bang sounded from behind you. Finn stood at the door, hand on his blaster. _He must have heard the yelling,_ you thought. _But how did he know where to find me?_

He reached a hand out in your direction. “Hey, you okay?”

You gave him a curt nod before your dad spoke up again.

“Who is this?” He looked at Finn with a mixture of panic and disgust. “You brought one of _them_ here? Are you _insane_?”

You put out a comforting hand to let Finn know you could handle the situation. “No, he’s a friend. He cares about me, probably more than you ever had.”

Your father took a few steps backwards, pointing his finger towards the door. “Get this Bucketbrain out of my house!”

A part of you knew his comments were coming from a place of true concern for both his and your safety, but another part of you couldn’t allow Finn to be treated like this by your father. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.”

“Why not? He’s just one of Ren’s filthy snowmen...” He directed his attention back on you, bringing his voice to a low grumble. “You weren’t supposed to make _friends_ with the enemy.”

“Dad, shut up,” you warned. “Now.”

Finn, who had remained remarkably calm throughout the whole ordeal, finally spoke up. _“Dad?”_ he questioned, looking between you and your father. 

You gave him another nod, confirming his realization.

“Your friend doesn’t know, does he?” You stayed silent. He directed his attention back towards Finn. “I wouldn’t get too close to her… She’s not who you think she is.”

Finn spoke up. “With all due respect, I can make my own judgements.”

“You’re just a brainwashed stifftrooper. All you do is follow other’s orders,” he scoffed.

“Isn’t that what you did, dad, follow other’s orders?” _He walked straight into that one._

“That was different. That was for the greater good.”

“Greater good, huh? Look where we are now!” You threw your arms out. “Benji’s death didn’t do _a thing_ for the greater good.”

He lowered his voice. “I will not justify myself to you, child.”

Something about the way he patronizingly threw around the word _child_ made you snap. Being a ‘child’ didn’t count for anything in this galaxy; your own brother was forced to grow up way too fast. Your father shouldn't have been able to pick and choose when you were a child and when you were an adult - you stopped being a kid the first time you heard bomber ships above your house. 

Your thoughts continued to run rampant as the world around you seemed to compress. The tension built and built, almost unbearably. But then it stopped.

Everything was silent...

_...And then it wasn’t._

You ducked as all the windows surrounding you simultaneously shattered. Finn ran to you, wrapping his arms around your body, while pushing your head into his armor. When all the glass stopped flying, he removed his hand from your head, giving you room to look up at him. You couldn’t tell what he must be thinking, but it would have to wait. You stared at your hands, which were clenched into tight fists, before snapping your head back towards your dad.

He stared at you in shock. “ _You_. You are one of them too. You’re like him.”

You returned his amazed expression with a glare. “You are wrong - I’m not like Benji. As much as I try, I will never be able to possess the unwavering trust that he gave others. I won’t let you take advantage of something I can’t control, not like you did to him.”

He stepped towards you. “ _Little daisy…”_

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

He took another step in your direction, pleading with his eyes. “Sweetheart, _please,_ hear me out.” He reached his hand out to touch your shoulder. 

You flinched and took a step back. Hot, angry tears fell on the dirt floor. “Don’t touch me.”

Upon hearing that, Finn took a few steps forward, prepared to act if necessary.

But your father wasn’t giving up his fight easily. He reached his hand towards you once more. “Daisy-” 

This time, you pushed him away with your palms, prompting Finn to pull out his blaster. 

To your horror, your father pulled out his own, aiming it directly at Finn. The two were locked in a standoff. 

You put out your arms, glancing between both men. You changed your tone of voice to one that was more soft and understanding. Approaching the situation with anger would only make things escalate further. “Dad, put down the blaster.” 

He looked at you, confused and hurt. “Shouldn’t you be telling _him_ that?”

“I trust him.” You gave a small nod to Finn, which he returned. You knew Finn wouldn’t shoot unless you gave him permission or if you were in serious danger. 

You continued to mediate the confrontation. “Just put it down. Put it down and then I promise we will leave.”

“He’s an Imp! He’ll send more back here later.” The panic in your father’s voice was growing more and more visible.

“No, no, he wouldn’t do that!”

A twinge of guilt hit you as you considered his point of view. Maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe seeing you with Finn was too much for him. Maybe he really did feel that he had no choice but to send your brother away. It had been your mother, after all, who coaxed him into doing so. But he lied - they both did - forcing you to relive your brother’s death day after day, speculating as to how things went so wrong. 

A grumble from beneath Finn’s helmet brought you back to the present. You discretely inched towards your father, trying to get close enough to grab the blaster out of his hands. 

Unfortunately he spotted what you were doing, and took an unsteady step back, almost tripping over a canvas that lied on the ground. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned.

You ignored his comment and continued your movement. “I need you to calm down.”

“Stop!” he cried, inadvertently stepping on the canvas, his foot falling through the thin-woven fabric. He looked down at his foot for a brief moment. 

_This was your chance._

“Dad-” you started, reaching for the blaster as fast as you could.

A shot rang out. You instinctively brought your hands to your ears, trying to ease their sudden ringing. You looked up in horror to see Finn fall to the ground. Your father remained standing, seemingly shocked by his own actions. 

You cried out, running to your fallen friend. “No, no, no, no. What did you do?!”

You ran your hands over his armor, trying to find the source of his injury. Meanwhile your father made his way over to where you kneeled. His voice quivered with regret.

“Daisy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

You spun around, furious. It was no use hiding your powers from him now. Wordlessly, you extended your hands outwords, hurling objects around the room until each of your father’s paintings lied in shambles on the floor. 

Suddenly, a noise came from behind you. You turned to see the Commander standing at the doorway. _He must’ve sensed something was wrong,_ you thought. But still, you were surprised to see him stand at the entrance of your house, his cloak billowing dramatically in the wind. 

Your father looked up, and upon seeing the masked man, his face contorted into an expression of disgust. 

Your father spoke with more malice than you had ever heard him speak before: “ _You.”_

The Commander brought his gaze from your tear-filled eyes to your dad’s weapon, before silently raising his hand, preparing to attack. 

Seeing what was about to happen, you put yourself between the two men, facing the Commander. “No! Please, he’s my father.”

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly. 

But before he could answer you, you watched as your father raised his blaster and fired off another shot. Unlike the scared, unsure stance he held when accidentally shooting Finn, he now was confident, unwavering, and most of all, _angry_. 

Time stood still as you explored your options. You could attempt to use the force to stop the laser, but you had exhausted your powers with your previous outburst. You could just let the laser go, hoping it would miss the Commander or that he would block it somehow but no, you couldn’t take that chance either. Nobody else was going to get hurt because of you. So that left you one choice. _One extremely stupid choice._

Without thinking too much, you forced your feet across the floor, positioning yourself between your father and the Commander. You shut your eyes and waited. 

At first you didn’t feel anything. That didn’t last long. As time began to speed up again, you felt a searing pain near your shoulder. It was the most physical discomfort you had ever felt, a fact that probably made you luckier than most. 

You dropped to your knees as your body went into shock - a combination of the physical and mental stress of the whole encounter. You felt dizzy and it was hard to focus on what was happening around you. 

You looked up and watched the horrified face of your father as he dropped his blaster. He started to make his way over to you, but with a burst of power you didn’t know you still had, you pushed him away. He was sent sprawling onto the other side of the room, unconscious. This was more for his protection than yours, as the Commander would not be happy with his assassination attempt. 

Your whole body made contact with the floor and you shifted your focus to the left where Finn lied, motionless. You crawled as close as you could before wrapping your fingers around his armored hand. A moment later you saw a pair of black boots appear to your right. 

“Commander-”

“Just hold on.” He kneeled down next to you, hastily removing his helmet to get a better look at the wound. He then placed two gloved hands on your shoulder, attempting to stem the bleeding. 

You looked up at him. He had risked his position by coming to your aid. He had listened to you when you told him to not hurt your father. And now, he was still by your side, even after being shot at. 

You mumbled the only thing you could think to say: “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You smirked weakly. “Too late.”

He shook his head, hands still on your would, his eyes shifting to focus on your father. You followed his gaze before reaching one of your hands up to gently grab his wrist.

“He was just scared...” You tried to explain, but it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open. “He-” 

The Commander interrupted you. “I… I understand. Just try to relax.” 

You sighed, looking back to your left. “Finn-”

“He’ll be alright.”

You felt yourself nearing the edge of consciousness. Even if you survived this, what would happen to Finn? Would your father ever recover? Both of them had seen your powers, putting you and the Commander at risk. _It was all too much._

“Kylo, I’m scared.”

He looked at you unlike he had ever before: unconfident, scared, _helpless._

“Me too.”

And while that would’ve made most even more worried, it comforted you. He told you the truth, and that was all you could’ve asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you all on a cliffhanger! I promise to make up for it next chapter :)
> 
> Let me know what you thought - I'd love to hear any comments/suggestions/questions that you have! 
> 
> Until next time, 
> 
> xxHazelxx


	11. The Whole of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed moment of calm...
> 
> Are you ready for the storm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii guys! Sorry for the late update again - I just moved back to college and it has been a bit hectic. But to reward those of you still reading, here's another chapter. This one was the hardest to write so far because... well, you'll see.
> 
> Also, 1,000 HITS!!! Thank you so much - every comment, bookmark, kudos, and hit truly motivates me and my writing, so THANK YOU. 
> 
> In other news: I made a TikTok for this fic (i'm not social media savvy, so I apologize in advance), but if you want to stay updated on this story between chapter uploads, that's the best place to go. My account: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJE5q3MH/
> 
> I'm anxious to see what you guys think of this one, so without further ado, enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

* * *

**_I spoke about wings_ **

**_You just flew_ **

**_I wondered, I guessed, and I tried_ **

**_You just knew_ **

**_I sighed, but you swooned_ **

**_I saw the crescent_ **

**_But you saw the whole of the moon_ **

**_~ The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys ~_ **

* * *

**CW: mentions of violence, injury description**

You sat on top of a small hill that overlooked a valley of swaying grass. There weren’t many trees, just a sea of undulating ferns. You looked to the ground on your left and right, noticing that you had chosen a spot at the center of a patch of green daisies. _Of course._ You laughed humorlessly, looking up to the sky and shaking your head, as silent tears began to fall. 

_Daisy._

That was what your father called you, ever since you were little. He would often paint landscapes and was inspired by the entrancing wildlife that was native to Lothal. One of his favorite flowers was the green daisy you were currently surrounded by. You remembered the first time your father showed you them. 

_“These flowers are special,” he told you one day, pointing out a patch of small green plants while out on a walk_. 

_You squinted at the seemingly-mundane bulbs emerging from the grass._

_“They don’t look very special,” you replied skeptically_.

_He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t. He leaned down to whisper in your ear: “That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough.”_

_Taking the challenge, you focused on the closest green bulb, following its curved stem down to the fertile dirt it lied in. You traced every line, rip, and crevice in its leaves. Some of the grass around it was crushed into the soil_ _—_ _covered in mud_ _—_ _most likely trampled by wandering loth-cats. But the daisy’s bulb remained a strong, healthy green._

_This little plant has survived so much, you thought._

_And suddenly, as if it heard you, the daisy bloomed right before your eyes, revealing a magnificent green flower. It was an enchanting emerald hue, like your father’s eyes._

_“How-” you began to ask._

_Your father chuckled. “The green daisy responds to body heat and breath. When someone gets close enough to truly appreciate its beauty, it blooms. Very few ever stop to notice how special this flower is, but when they do, they are greatly rewarded.”_

_He paused for a moment, staring directly into your eyes while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear._

_“My little daisy...”_

It had been three days since you’d been shot. The team you arrived with on Lothal had to extend their stay on the planet due to a mechanical malfunction on one of the ships. You had almost made it out of the city before the ship’s engines failed and you were forced to turn back.

Your father’s blaster beam had grazed a good part of your arm, with most of the damage being at your shoulder. It had come close to hitting vital organs, but thankfully missed. Finn didn’t get so lucky; he was still in critical condition. You waited by his side for as long as you could until Akilah forced you out of the room so you could get some rest. You knew that wouldn’t be possible until Finn was out of the woods, so you decided to take a walk to clear your head. That’s how you ended up crying on a grassy hill, surrounded by the familiar green daisies. 

Attempting to distract yourself from your own feelings, you pulled out your sketchbook. It had been a while since you drew for yourself, but when you were younger it always seemed to ease your anxiety. You shuffled through the bag you brought, finally managing to find a pen. You swapped it into the fingers of your bandaged right arm before attempting to sketch. As soon as you did, pain shot through your tendons. _I really didn’t think that through, did I?_

Now you weren’t even able to do the one thing that made you happy. You threw your pen backwards over your shoulder, frustrated. 

A voice cleared from behind you, making you jump.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You turned to see the Commander, fully robed, behind you. His dark attire stood out against the setting sun behind him, creating a glowing aura around his form. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there.”

“So you weren’t throwing projectiles at me on purpose?” he questioned, gesturing to the pen that laid at his feet. 

“Kriff, no, sorry.” You shook your head in panic before realising he was messing with you. You chuckled, surprised at his unusual attempt at a joke. “I was just doodling… Or trying to at least.”

He nodded, moving to stand beside you. After a moment of silence, you heard the click of something decompressing as his helmet thudded into the grass. He took in a deep breath of air, his shoulders moving upwards tensely before relaxing again. He tilted his face into the wind, closing his eyes briefly as if taking in the serenity of the moment, before his gaze shifted down towards your bandage. “Your arm…”

You twisted the limb around, testing its range of motion. “It’s fine, I’ll just have to learn to use my left.”

His eyebrows furrowed in response, as if doubting your answer, before speaking again. “Your father-” he started.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted, a bit harsher than you intended. You sighed, brushing a wisp of hair off of your face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I just want to forget. For a little while at least.”

He turned to look at you, a slight crease on his forehead. “I understand.” He turned back to the sky. “I’ve had encounters with my kin that I wish to forget as well.”

A surge of sadness ran through your body; conflicting waves of guilt, fear, and helplessness crashing into the corners of your mind. You shook your head, trying to relieve the pressure you knew was emitting from the stoic man standing next to you. 

You wanted desperately to ask about his family: who they were, where they were now, why they caused such pain. But just like the Commander had respected your need for privacy, you would respect his. 

You were surprised when you saw his black cloak move to sit next to you on the grassy hill. It was strange seeing the Commander in an environment so different from the Finalizer. But something about the way his hands slid so naturally into the grass, or the way his feet stretched out in front of him, or how his hair flowed gently in the breeze, made you think that maybe this wasn’t so unfamiliar to him after all. 

The two of you sat like that for a while, taking in the day around you. The sky was a brilliant blue with the beginnings of a deep purple at the horizon, something you didn’t see too often on Lothal. Usually the color of the sky melted into that of the fields, mirroring the landscape’s golden curves. But today was different. Birds chirped and flew overhead, a gentle breeze blew, and the air smelled of flowers and fresh soil. 

Succumbing to the beauty of your surroundings, you laid back in the soft grass. You watched as a single bird dipped in the air high above you, circling the clouds in a soaring dance.

“I wish I could do that.”

The Commander turned to look at you, confused.

“I wish I could fly.”

He chuckled in response, a toothy smile gracing your presence briefly before quickly concealing itself with a squint towards the sky. You were pleased to see the ghost of a smirk remain and you couldn’t help it as the corners of your own mouth twisted upwards. You brought yourself onto your elbows, looking at him expectantly. 

Seeing your questioning look, he shook his head. “No, it’s nothing… It’s just — I remember saying something similar as a boy.”

You smiled, laying back in the grass and returning your eyes to the sky. You stayed like this for a moment, carefully forming a question. 

“Where would you go? If you could fly, I mean,” you clarified.

He shrugged and responded simply. “I have all the ships I could ask for. I could fly anywhere.”

You tried to imagine him leaving the Finalizer, taking off in a ship, flying to some distant planet with no people, no politics, no wars: just peace. Hux would never allow it, and you guessed that whoever the Commander answered to wouldn’t either. 

“But you wouldn’t,” you replied out loud, a twinge of sadness in your voice. 

“No,” he said, his voice lowering. “I wouldn’t.” 

You hummed to yourself, thinking deeply. “I guess that’s the difference between birds and ships. Birds are born free. Their wings aren’t man made; it’s simply in their nature to fly. But when you put humans in the sky, they tear it apart. We fill it with blaster fire and explosions. We destroy the lands that we never should’ve left in the first place.” You sighed. “Even the birds won’t be free for much longer…”

The Commander turned towards you again. You expected him to tell you that you were wrong — that the wars were necessary, inevitable even — but he didn’t. Instead he blinked once before pointing up at the bird you referenced earlier. 

“It’s a convor,” he said quietly. 

“W-what?” Now it was your turn to be confused. 

“I’m surprised to see one here — they’re not native to this planet.” 

“Oh,” you replied, the light returning to your eyes. This was a new side of the Commander, one that you had only seen glimpses of in the past; one that was patient, vulnerable, and had an unusual, yet endearing, knowledge of birds.

“They are known for their strong connections to the Force,” he continued. “Can you feel it?”

You looked back up at the bird. Its golden brown feathers soared elegantly in the wind. Its dramatic tail rippled like an unfurling ribbon, slicing through the air. A familiar tingle made itself known at the back of your neck, spreading down your spine all the way to your toes. 

“Yeah, I can,” you said, breathless. You didn’t know that so many species could have connections to the Force. “It’s amazing.”

“Yes,” he responded, eyes trained directly on you. “It is.” 

You didn’t notice his head jerk away when you turned your body towards his. 

Taking advantage of the break in the conversation, you decided to ask him something that had been on your mind since the shootout with your father. 

“Ky-” you started, before correcting yourself. “Commander. What happens when we get back to the Finalizer?”

He tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

You were suddenly nervous and began to twirl a piece of grass between your fingers. You thought about what Finn had told you when you first arrived on Lothal: how you always seemed to be at the center of trouble. A pang of guilt ran through your body. “I mean… What do I say about my arm, or Finn? Won’t they be suspicious?”

The muscles of the Commander’s face tightened. “Won’t _who_ be suspicious?”

“I dunno…” you trailed off, but could tell that he was waiting for a more specific answer. “Hux?” 

He scoffed, clenching his fingers into a gloved fist. “You don’t have to worry about Hux. He is under my command, and I’ll make sure he remembers that.”

“But what about the person _you’re_ under command? Will he be able to… sense that something happened here?” The questions spilled out before you could stop them.

He paused, longer than you would’ve liked, before looking at you as if he was about to tell you something of the utmost importance. “He won’t hurt you.”

The Commander’s strange tone did little to ease your anxiety; it was evasive, yet stern enough that you believed him.

You shifted to a sitting position, legs crossed under you. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “That’s- that’s not what I’m worried about.”

He tipped his head slightly. “So what _are_ you worried about?”

“Well…” you paused, almost reconsidering what you were about to say. “You.” 

It was true. As strange as it sounded coming out of your mouth, you were worried what others would think if they knew the Commander abandoned his duties to help some artist with her family drama. What would they do if they knew he had shown mercy to a man who tried to kill him? What if they found out that he had been training you in secret, or that he let you see his face: the one that now searched yours curiously.

It looked like the Commander wanted to say something, but instead his mouth moved to form a thin line. He stood up suddenly, forcing you to angle your head in order to meet his eyes. 

“We should get back to the ships,” he said monotonously. 

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice. “Yeah, right. Y-you go first. Probably shouldn’t be seen together.”

He nodded, staring at you a moment longer before turning to pick up his helmet. Just as you thought he was about to leave, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he bent over, picking something up off of the ground. He reached out and you realised he had your pen in his hand, the one you had tossed at him earlier.

You reached forward to grab the pen with your bandaged hand, but before you were able to, he gently grasped your arm instead. 

“What are you-” you started, before you felt it: a warmth spreading up your arm, wrapping its tendrils around your injured muscle and bone, filling each wounded crevice of your previously painful limb until it was restored to its normal state. 

“What did you do?” you barely whispered, staring at your upper arm in shock. His hand slid off your skin, leaving a cold tingling in its wake. 

He rose back to his commanding stature nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. However as he responded, you didn’t miss the slight falter in his voice. “I- I’ll see you back on board.”

And with that, he put on his helmet and began the trek back down the hill. 

* * *

After waiting fifteen minutes, it was your turn to head back down the hill. You walked back through the city one last time, retracing the steps you took earlier when putting up the posters with Koda and Rilea. You tried to take everything in as you made your way to the ship — who knows when you’d be back on Lothal again. But with each forward step, you began to realize that the busy streets, rolling fields, and the childhood house you used to call home now felt so distant, so foreign. _You didn’t belong here anymore._

The hushed chattering of a small group of villagers, almost invisible in the shadow of a nearby building, interrupted you from your thoughts. It wasn’t until you moved closer that you realized they were huddled around one of the posters you had put up earlier. One of them held a light up to it, inspecting something on the bottom right-hand corner of the paper. 

A couple of other passerbys curiously lingered, trying to figure out what the group was so intrigued by. 

You suddenly felt a presence at your side and you turned to see an older man who was attempting to peak over the shoulders of the group in front of him. “What’s going on?” he asked you. 

“I…” You paused for a moment, thinking. “I have no idea,” you replied as confidently as you could. 

_But that was a lie._

You knew _exactly_ why the small group of Lothalians were crowded around the poster. 

The poster that _you_ designed. The poster that Soren let _you_ put finishing touches on before it was sent off for approval. The poster that _you_ were intent on distributing yesterday, even after everyone else had gone back to the ship. The poster that wasn’t just a poster: It was a message.

_And it was one that you wrote._

* * *

**_Six months previously…_ **

“Mom, I can’t.” 

You stood at the kitchen window, looking out at the houses beyond — the ones you had grown up seeing every day, the ones you didn’t want to leave behind.

An apprehensive hand rested on your shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one I can trust.”

You spun around, indignant tears at the corners of your eyes. “So what, you’re sending me off so I can end up just like Benji, dead in a ditch somewhere?”

She sighed, shaking her head dismissively. “Honey, you know that was a freak accident. There was a-”

“Malfunction with the engines, _I know.”_ A single tear fell. You wiped it away briskly while turning back to the window. 

She waited a moment, letting your bout of anger simmer, before speaking again — softer this time. “I know you could do it. You could save us all.”

Sighing, you decided to indulge her pleas. If there was one thing you and you mother shared, it was stubbornness. “What would I have to do?”

“Only exactly what you’re good at: art.” You rolled your eyes after hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, right,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s the catch?”

She paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to explain what she was going to tell you next. “You would need to hide things in your work.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of things?”

“Messages.”

This caught your attention; now you were genuinely intrigued. 

“Messages?” you questioned. “To who?”

“To me and the rest of the Resistance.” 

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. Your mom had always wanted you to work alongside her with the Resistance, but until now, you had managed to evade the subject whenever it came up. What you really wanted was to do what your dad did: travel the galaxy, paint what you saw, and die a lonely, but happy hermit in a small cottage by the sea. But as you got older, with the rising of the First Order, you began to realize that there may not be a galaxy left by the time you were old enough to settle down somewhere. Maybe this _was_ something that you needed to do. 

“How?”

Your mom nodded, a proud smile emerging on her face. “I’ve talked to Leia Organa. She had one of her men get your name on the Order’s recruits list. The position is within the Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction. They’re looking for someone to aid in the creation and distribution of First Order propaganda posters. You would simply have to listen — walk the hallways, gain others’ trust, find information about the Order — and then put what you learn into the posters. Once they’re distributed, Resistance members will scope ‘em out and report back to us.”

The whole plan sounded ridiculous. “Mom, you can’t honestly think they’d fall for that. Hidden messages? It’s something a kid would think of.”

She shook her head knowingly. “That’s what makes it so genius. Everyone expects a spy to try and wiggle their way into the top ranks of the Order. But no one will suspect an artist. Plus, you would be using _this_.” She handed you a pen. “Anything you write with this will only be visible under a certain light frequency. The Order won’t see a thing.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So that’s what I am now, _a spy?”_

“No,” she responded sternly. “You’re an artist; you always have been. An artist who can save the Resistance with her work.” She paused, looking at you with a glint in her eye that you knew meant she was serious. _“Kriff,_ you could save the whole _galaxy_ with just a few strokes of a pen.”

You felt yourself conceding, even though you knew you had lost the argument the moment it had started. “You really think this could make any kind of difference?”

She took both of your hands in hers. “I _know_ it could.”

Wordlessly, you shot her a final look that warned: _whatever happens, it’s on you._ She seemed to understand the meaning behind your stare and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. 

“Then I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so about that... 
> 
> I've been building up to this plot point for quite some time. If you are confused, good: you're supposed to be. More will be explained in the next chapter - so stay tuned!
> 
> Have a great weekend,
> 
> xxHazelxx


	12. Ticket to the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will-o'-the-wisp: 
> 
> 1\. a phosphorescent light seen hovering or floating at night on marshy ground.  
> 2\. a person or thing that is difficult or impossible to reach or catch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for keeping you waiting yet again! I have been building up to this chapter for quite some time. In fact, I've pretty much had it roughly planned out from Day 1. It's a VERY long one (almost 20 pages of text), but I feel like the length was needed in order to fully capture all of the emotions in this 6,600 word mess :) Also, because it is so long, I guarantee there will be some errors in there (sorry in advance)!
> 
> Another side note: I'm going to start revising/reworking the first few chapters of this fic (mainly so they match the grammar and tone of my more recent chapters), and I'll post updates about that on my Tumblr if you're wanting to follow along. 
> 
> Thank you guys so, so much for continuing to read this silly little story that I thought would never see the light of day, and for all of your kudos, kind comments, and support. I love each and every one of you with all my heart <3
> 
> Please feel free to reach out, on here or on one of my social media pages (see below), if you have any questions or comments (on this fic or just life in general). 
> 
> Tumblr: oo-hazel-oo  
> TikTok: x.x_hazel_x.x  
> Quotev: xXHazelXx
> 
> With that, I'll leave you guys to read this emotional mess of a chapter. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. I own not, you sue not.

* * *

_**I've got a ticket to the moon**_

_**I'll be leaving here any day soon** _

_**Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon** _

_**But I'd rather see the sunrise, in your eyes** _

_**~ Ticket to the Moon - Electric Light Orchestra ~** _

* * *

**CW: mild violence, (lots of) emotional distress**

Being back on the Finalizer was strange. You were put on the ship for a single purpose: to gather intel, hide information in posters, and distribute them on various planets for the Resistance to find. But now, after everything that you learned about your brother, and especially after what happened on Lothal, you decided you were done working for the Resistance. 

You recognized that the Order had done terrible things — was _doing_ terrible things. But you would find another way to help, one that didn’t involve the Resistance, the same organization that murdered Benji. There were _good people_ on the Finalizer. People who had been there for you more than your own parents had. Ones who would even take a blaster bolt for you… and who _you_ would take a blaster bolt for. 

As you walked the halls of the Finalizer, one week since the mission to Lothal, you found yourself more on edge than you ever had been. The Commander was off-ship and you hadn’t seen him since he healed your arm, an act that you still hadn’t fully processed. Finn was doing better — the doctors and med-droids managed to get him stabilized. He was still in the medbay, but mainly out of precaution. He was no longer hooked up to machines and everyone was impressed by how fast he had managed to heal.

Regardless of his resilience, you felt horribly guilty for putting him in such a dangerous situation to begin with, something you had attempted to tell him many times. All you wanted was for him to yell at you, lash out, cry, _something._ But he brushed off every single one of your apologies as if you had merely stepped on his toe. 

Every morning you had been checking up on him before heading to the artist workspace. However, today when you entered his room, you found the bed empty. A wave of confusion, followed by worry, coursed through you. _No, no, no._ The doctors said he could still take a turn for the worse, but you thought he was doing better. _He can’t be…_ you thought. _No way, he’s too stubborn to die. Right?_ Panicking, you crossed the room, finding the button on the wall that would call the medical attendants. 

Right as you neared the button, a startled cry came from behind you: “Wait! Don’t-”

You spun on your heel and was shocked to see none other than Finn hopping over to you on one leg. He was struggling to get a piece of armor around his foot and as he hobbled in your direction, tangled pieces of his arm and leg plates dragged behind him. 

“What do you think you’re do-” you started before Finn cut you off with a single finger to your lips. He gave you a stern look before checking over both his shoulders to see if anyone had heard. 

You glared at him and tried speaking again, this time in a harsh whisper. “What on Hoth do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in bed!” 

Finn continued to hastily put on pieces of his armor. “I’m getting outta here. Can’t stand it. These _people-”_

“You mean the _doctors?”_ you interrupted, incredulously.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, _the doctors_ ,” he whispered dramatically. “They’re drivin’ me crazy.” He continued talking, the words coming out in short breaths as he wrestled with his chestplate. “They come in here… poke me with those sharp torture devices… ask me stupid questions… and then tell me I can’t leave!” 

This made you snort out a laugh. “Sharp torture devices? You’d think someone who had just been shot wouldn’t mind a few needles.”

“You know what?” He paused, his nose held high in the air as his lips formed a stubborn line. He held up a finger, searching for a comeback that never came. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. I have places to be.”

Now _you_ were the one who was irritated. “Places to be? I checked and made sure you didn’t have duty for another week!”

He sighed, securing the final piece of armor. “I’m not going on duty. I’m going to get some food — the stuff they’ve been giving me here sucks.”

You rolled your eyes. Of _course_ his priority was the food. “Finn, you’re still healing. I can bring you something to eat!”

“Not happening. These doctors and droids creep me out and I want to leave.”

“But-”

“You would like to accompany me? How nice of you to offer!” 

You sighed. This was yet another battle you wouldn’t win. 

“ _Fine,”_ you conceded. “I’ll walk you to the cafeteria, but then I have to meet with the crew.”

“Fantastic, after you,” he said, pulling his helmet over his head and gesturing towards the open door. 

You started for the exit with a huff, but suddenly put out an arm to stop Finn before he could leave the room. He looked down at you, cocking his head slightly in confusion. 

“Just know that I will be checking up on you every single day for the next week,” you told him, shooting him your most intimidating stare. “And I am much scarier than those doctors and droids you’ve been complaining about.”

He nodded, his shoulders sinking slightly, before once again gesturing to the open doorway. You shook your head briefly and began walking towards the cafeteria. The two of you travelled in silence for a while but at the midpoint of your trek across the Finalizer, when the corridors became a bit more crowded, you felt Finn put a guiding hand on the small of your back. Once you rounded a corner, it was just you and him again. 

A couple more minutes passed and you felt him fall slightly behind you. A familiar tingle at the back of your neck made itself known as a wash of uncertainty enveloped you. You turned to look at Finn, whose helmet was darting around at the walls nervously. Looking down, you noticed his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. _Something is wrong._

You once again put out a hand to stop him from walking any further. “Alright, that’s it. Tell me what’s up.”

He looked at you, startled, confused, and slightly guilty. 

“Uh… Nothing’s up. W-why do you ask?”

You put a hand on your hip and raised one suspicious eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar. You’re all fidgety — what’s going on?” 

He turned to face you, debating whether or not to deny you any further. This time, _you_ won. 

“Ugh, why are you like this?” he said, exasperated. You gave him a mocking shrug, waiting for him to continue. 

“ _Fine._ I was just thinking…” He looked everywhere but at you. “In case you happened to be wondering, it’s... “ he paused before letting out a dramatic sigh. “It’s Koda’s birthday tomorrow.” Another huff of breath came from under his helmet. “There. You happy now?” 

“His birthday?” you repeated, even though you had heard him clearly. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t really tell anyone…” Finn paused, shifting on his feet, his tone becoming more serious. “I’m not sure if you remember what happened on the day I found him…”

You tried to remember the conversation you had with Koda. You recalled his somber expression as he painstakingly relayed to you his childhood on Dantooine. 

“Yeah,” you said. “He told me that parents skipped his own birthday for some Resistance diplomat’s birthday party, right?”

Finn nodded. “Pretty much. It went beyond that, but that was the breaking point for him.” He sighed deeply, obviously affected by the thought of Koda being neglected, before continuing. “Then he took off, found me and a few other troopers, and came back here with us.”

You nodded solemnly before speaking again. “So why are you telling me this now? The last time I saw you guys in a room together you repelled like magnets.” 

You had a pretty good idea of the answer to your question, but you wanted to hear it from Finn himself. Despite the rift that had grown between the two men, you sensed that they still cared about each other deeply. After all, that was what their whole argument was based on: not hate or malice, but friendship, loyalty, and love. 

“Well, Koda came to visit me in the medbay a few days ago. He didn’t say much but… I don’t know. I guess it just got me thinking about what you said — about cutting him some slack for his decision to stay with the Order when he could’ve left.”

“And?” you tried to hold back your smile, happy to see that something you said had stuck with him. Finn deserved to get his best friend back. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaaand I’m not gonna say any more about it because you are getting way too much enjoyment out of this.”

You put your own arms up defensively. “Okay, okay, I’ll be civil. Thank you for telling me. I’ll think of something we can put together for him.”

Finn nodded, but neither of you went to move forward. 

“You’re invited of course,” you suggested, knowing that he would probably decline. 

You were right and watched as he shook his head. “I dunno, I’m not sure he’d want me there. Baby steps, ya know?”

You were going to protest, but you decided to trust him on this one. He knew Koda the best and you wanted him to do this at his own pace. “I understand,” you smiled warmly. “Baby steps it is.”

* * *

It was Koda’s birthday. You had told Rilea about the situation and after a moment of shock, an emotion you didn’t see from her often, she immediately went into party planning mode. You were a little surprised that Koda hadn’t told Rilea about his birthday before; she had known him the longest and could name everything from his favorite foods to his pet peeves. In a way though, it made sense. Koda wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to ‘burden’ others with his own problems. 

You, Rilea, Akilah, and even Soren, gathered in the artist workspace waiting for Koda to arrive. Rilea had told him there was an emergency meeting and that he needed to meet them urgently. She was now running around the room frantically, making sure everything was in its proper place. Akilah, being one of the tallest members of the group, was busy retaping decorations to the ceiling. Soren stood at the back of the room, fidgeting with a stack of napkins. You worked on scattering shredded pieces of colored paper, what Rilea referred to as ‘budget confetti’, on the tables. 

Looking around, you realized how different the group was without Koda present. He always managed to fill any room he entered with life. He and Rilea were constantly yelling at each other, whether that be out of excitement over some mutual interest, or irritation at each other’s silly disagreements. Akilah and Koda could sometimes be found in a quiet corner of the room, having some sort of intellectual debate, which Akilah almost always won. Even though Soren acted like he despised Koda, the latter always knew how to bring him into a conversation when he quietly hovered at the back of the room. 

Koda had the amazing ability to say all the right things just when you needed it. He made you feel like you could be honest around him, largely due to the way he wore his _own_ heart on his sleeve. He was fiercely loyal to his friends and his beliefs and despite having only known him for a little while, you trusted him to have your back through anything. 

The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your train of thought and Rilea flew to the front of the room, her wild golden hair streaming behind her. She whispered harshly for everyone to be quiet. A few seconds later, Koda walked through the door. 

“What’s goin-”

Rilea gave the signal.

“ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”_

He looked around the room in shock. Colorful garlands criss-crossed the ceiling, dangling above a table lined with all his favorite foods. Hand-drawn signs were hung on the walls, the flickering light from the cake’s candles bouncing off of them. Bright pieces of paper decorated the tables like stars in the sky. It was the kind of birthday party he always wished he could’ve had as a kid. 

_It was perfect._

“You guys…” he started, rendered speechless by the scene before him. 

You watched as he looked at each of you, adorned with paper hats that Rilea made from leftover posters. He chuckled when he saw Soren, who was still sulking towards the back, wearing one, though he knew it was probably against his will. 

He finally spoke, choking on his words as he did so. “You all did this for me?”

“Of course.” you said. “That’s what _family_ does.”

It was a simple statement, but one that held deep meaning in Koda’s life. His eyes welled with tears and he shook his head, looking down towards his feet, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

Noticing his reaction, Rilea stepped beside him, grabbing his hand before pulling him in for a hug. You watched them with a silent smile, knowing that you were witnessing the start of something special. 

Rilea pulled away, tears now filling her eyes too, before chuckling to herself. “Look what you made me do you big oaf,” she said, playfully hitting Koda in the arm. They each had one arm wrapped around the other’s waist. You glanced over at Akilah, who was already looking back at you, a knowing smirk on both of your faces. 

Rilea’s shout broke the silence. “What are you two looking at? Come on, don’t you want to join in this emotional mess?”

You looked at Akilah and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

You joined the hug and watched as Akilah hesitated before heading to where Soren was brooding, and grabbed his hand. He looked like a scared loth-cat as she dragged him over to where you, Rilea, and Koda were huddled. She forcefully wrapped an arm around him, bringing him into the group hug. The five of you stayed like that for what seemed like eons. Despite your differences, it was true, you _had_ become a family. A strange dysfunctional space family, but a family nonetheless. When it came down to it, you would all go to the ends of the galaxy for each other. 

Koda was the first to move, taking a step back from the group. “Wait a second, how did you know today was my birthday?”

You smirked knowingly, mimicking his movement. “A stubborn stormtrooper you and I both know may have told me yesterday.”

His eyes opened wide and he shifted on his feet. You could tell he was trying to look casual, but the crack in his voice said otherwise. “Finn? He… he did?”

“He did,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he said, stunned. “I guess... I should thank him at some point.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I think he’d like that.”

“So are we going to eat at any time in the near future?” Soren asked, obviously uncomfortable with the excess of emotions surrounding him. Akilah shot him a sharp glare, prompting him to look down at his feet in stubborn apology. 

Koda stepped forward, eyeing the table for himself. “Are those Dantooine flapjacks?” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah, I heard you talk about them once when we first met,” Rilea said. “I asked around the ship looking for a recipe and it turns out one of my pops’ coworkers is from Dantooine, so she helped me out a bit.”

“Stars, I haven’t had these in years.” He turned towards Rilea, gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you.”

She waved him off. “Awe, don’t go all soft on me now you ol’ Ewok.”

He smiled, tugging on a piece of her hair playfully. “Whatever Spacer, let’s eat.”

You were surprised to hear Koda’s nickname for Rilea. ‘Spacer’ was a term used for people who had spent their whole lives in space. You had heard Rilea mention her dad, or ‘pops’ as she called him, just moments before, but realized you really didn’t know too much about her upbringing or her family. You made a mental note to ask her about it later. 

Right now, all you wanted to do was sit back, eat cake, and enjoy this small, beautiful moment with your favorite people. Moments like these didn’t come around too often on the Finalizer, but when they did, it was _magical._

* * *

Later that day, word had gotten around that the Commander was back from his mission. Excitement and worry coursed through your body. You needed to talk to him. You didn’t know why exactly — it was just a feeling. And it was this _feeling_ that seemed to be bringing you closer and closer to the training room. 

When you arrived, the door was open a crack, and upon peeking through you recognised the telltale cloak of the Commander. He was turned away from you, making it hard to read his mood.

“Commander?” you said quietly, tapping the door lightly. 

No response. The nerves you had felt moments ago were much more prominent now. You were about to knock on the door again when you heard a low: “Come in.”

He didn’t turn to you as you entered. Instead, he continued to face the large window that looked out at the expanse of space that surrounded the Finalizer. Sensing that something was wrong, you closed the door behind you. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes.” His answer came quick, _too_ quick. 

“No you’re not.” You approached him cautiously. “I can _feel_ it.”

A low sound came from his direction and you watched as his shoulders shakily rose and fell suddenly. “You are getting good at that.”

You knew he was referencing your ability to read others’ emotions, something you had always attributed to your intuitive personality until you arrived on the Finalizer. You thought about how you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing the abilities you now possessed, how you could’ve never come to understand the power that flowed through your body. 

You smiled, grateful that you now knew the truth about yourself. “Only thanks to your training.”

“No, not just that.” He finally turned to look at you, but what you saw made you frown. He seemed... tired. His hair was a bit messier than usual and his eyes didn’t have that glint of stubborn determination that they normally did. He continued speaking: “You’ve had this power within you since you were born. Now you are simply learning how to harness it.”

“Yeah, well…” you let the rest of your sentence drift off. He was deflecting. “You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

_He is so stubborn,_ you thought. “I don’t doubt that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about.”

He paused for a moment, considering your statement, before responding. “My superior and I are having… a disagreement.”

You shuddered at the mention of his superior, the one you still knew nothing about besides the fact that he was dangerous. And that the most powerful man you knew was afraid of him. 

“About what?” you asked, nervously. 

“You.”

Your skin went cold. _He knew. He knew you were Force sensitive. He knew the Commander was training you. He knew about Lothal. Oh, kriff. What if he knew that you had been working for… No, he would’ve said something by now. He probably would’ve killed you by now._ The thought made you shiver. The Commander must have sensed your unease and took a few steps in your direction, his face briefly twitching in worry., 

“He doesn’t know about your abilities. I’ve managed to keep that from him. But he knows that you’re…” You held your breath, preparing for the worst: your biggest secret to finally be revealed. “Special. He knows that you are important to m-” he paused, correcting himself, but not before you caught onto what he was about to say. “He knows that you are important.”

You signed in relief. _He still didn’t know who you were._ The initial panic dissolving, you finally managed to process what he had said, a blush creeping onto your face as you did. _Stars, where did that come from?_

“O-oh,” you managed to stutter out.

He seemed unaffected by your surprise. “If he finds out about your abilities… I’m not sure I can-” He pauses and looks down at his hands, seemingly frustrated at himself. “He’s powerful. _Too_ powerful.” 

You were growing more and more curious about his superior. It was unlike the Commander to admit his weakness so you knew that he must be extremely powerful. But the Commander was surrounded by those with power, what made this person so different? And why did he want to keep you from him so bad? 

You decided to prod further. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded silently.

“Why don’t you give me up to him? He would reward you greatly, I’m sure. Why not just give him what he wants?”

You watched as his eyebrows drew together in what seemed like a joint expression of confusion and frustration. “I’ve seen what he can do. If he finds out you’re force-sensitive, he’ll try to train you himself. But his training… methods… are different from mine.”

“Different?” 

“They’re cruel,” he responded bluntly.

“But if I’m going to be powerful, powerful like you…”

He interrupted you sternly. “I don’t want you to be powerful like me. _Never_.” He softened his voice after noticing the surprised look on your face. “It’s just… you can be powerful, but in your own way. I don’t want you to…”

The end of his sentence was left suspended in the space between you. 

“What?” you asked, not willing to let his thought slide.

“Change,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to change.”

_This was different,_ you thought. When you first met the Commander, he seemed adamant on making you do things _his_ way, and now, he wanted you to do the opposite. 

“And you think if your superior trains me, I’ll change?” you asked. 

“Yes.” The Commander moves to sit down, but does so slowly. _Too slowly._ A slight groan escapes his mouth. 

“Are you okay?” you ask again, taking a few steps towards him.

“I told you,” he grunted, dark hair concealing his eyes. “I’m fine.”

A dark thought crossed your mind, one involving the enigmatic figure that Kylo worked for. 

“Did… did _he_ do something to you?”

He gripped the chair tightly in response. The action did not pass by you unnoticed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You keep saying that Commander but-”

“Kylo. Call me Kylo.”

“Kylo,” you said the name confidently for the first time. It felt much better than saying Commander, but something still didn’t sit right about the way it rolled off your tongue. You drew your attention back to Kylo, who was breathing heavier than you would’ve liked, obviously straining to conceal whatever injury he had sustained from you. Thinking for a second, an idea began to form in your mind. “Let me help.”  
  


“What?” he questioned skeptically. 

“I could try using the Force.”

He answered immediately, sitting up straight and looking at you, fierceness returning to his eyes. “No.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. You had spent the last few weeks training with him for moments like these, and now he was declining you the opportunity to put what you learned into practice.

You tried mentioning this to him. “Please, I need to test my abilities.”

He simply shook his head in response. “No, it’s dangerous. You’ve already done enough for me.”

You took a step closer to him. Even though he was sitting down, he was still only slightly shorter than you. You reached out slowly, taking one of his hands in yours. He stilled for a moment, unsure of what to do, before closing his fingers around yours. He had taken his gloves off before you entered the room, and you found yourself savoring the touch of his bare hand against yours. It was warm, but rough. Hardened by years of fighting. Each one of his fingers was twice the size of yours and you could feel the Force subtly flow through the places where your palms and knuckles touched. 

“You healed me once,” you said quietly. “Now let me return the favor.”

You felt his hands suddenly tighten around yours, as if he was afraid to let go. His chin quivered briefly before he looked up at you, his hazel eyes glistening with something unfamiliar. _Were those… tears?_

“Why are you- After everything I’ve done, you still… _How?”_

His words came in short, frantic bursts. 

“Kylo…” you paused, trying to find the right words of your own. You needed to do something, say something, that showed him he could accept your help; that he was _worthy_ of your help. “We all do things we aren’t proud of, especially when we are under the orders of others.” A throb of guilt ran through your body. “But there will always be surprising glimpses of clarity and peace that help to keep us centered. Special moments where our hearts defeat our heads. And it’s those moments that keep us going and it’s those moments that should define us. I learned this from you, Kylo. When you trained me to use my powers, when you carried me through the woods on Dantooine, when you spared my father’s life simply because I asked, when you told me about the convor on Lothal, and when you healed my arm simply so I could draw again…” You shook your head, smiling at the recollection of memories. 

“My dad used to tell me this story, you know… It was about these lights that would appear to travellers at night — he called them will-o’-the-wisp. He said you can only see them in the marshes of Lothal near the ancient Jedi temples and were known for leading travellers astray. There are different tellings of what the lights actually are: some say they’re the spirits of the dead, set on vengeance, others say they lead you to hidden treasure. But what most people can agree on is that these lights are symbols of false hope.” 

You paused, choosing your next words wisely. You wanted to be vulnerable, so Kylo would know it was okay for him to be vulnerable too. 

“Sometimes I feel like that, like I’m a traveller, blindly following the will-o’-the-wisp.” You chuckled, raising a hand out towards the massive window. “After all, we are just space dust at the end of the day. Years from now, I won’t be here. You won’t be here. This _galaxy_ won’t be here. No one will remember us, or all that we’ve fought for. We are so small compared to the rest of the universe.” You shook your head, looking down at your hands incredulously. “But despite knowing that, for some strange and ridiculous reason, we still _care._ ” You now smiled to yourself, as if processing the meaning behind your words for the first time. “Life is silly. It’s trivial. Ephemeral. But somehow, we manage to make it _big_ and _beautiful_.” For the first time since you began talking, you looked up at Kylo. “There’s something amazing about that, don’t you think?”

He didn’t answer — he simply gazed into your eyes with his own earthy irises. You took that as a sign to continue. “It’s something I know I want to be a part of, and I think that you do too. You’ve shown me that it’s okay to feel sad, angry, or lost, just like it’s okay to feel happy and content.” Your smile grew even wider, your eyes shining bright despite the darkness of the room. “Admittedly, I still need to work a bit on the former, and from what I’ve seen, I think you need to work on the latter.” Kylo let out a huff of air, making you smirk. “But I know it’s there. I’ve seen you laugh when you think no one’s listening. I saw how you smiled on Lothal. I’ve even heard your attempts at cracking jokes. It’s all there. Please, Kylo, let me help. You _deserve_ help.”

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes on the exhale. You knew that at this moment he was fighting an internal battle; a battle between the part of him that desperately needed help, and the other more dominant part of him that was too stubborn to admit it.

“Okay.”

You nodded and sat on your knees in front of him, your right hand still holding his, attempting to hide your slight shock at his concession. You had never healed anyone before. To be fair, you had never really tried. But you thought that because his injury didn’t seem to be life-or-death, it was at least worth a shot. 

You weren’t sure where exactly he was hurting, so you relied on your instincts to guide you. A prickle that ran through your left hand prompted you to take his other hand in yours. Closing your eyes, you began to probe his body with your mind, trying to find any areas of the force that felt weak. 

After a few minutes passed with no luck, you felt something start to happen. It began as a small pinprick of feeling at the back of your head. Before long, the prick transformed into a tingle that ran throughout your entire body. You felt pulses of electricity move through your neck, shoulders, forearms, all the way down to your hands; the ones that still held tightly to Kylo’s. Then, it was gone. However, almost as soon as it left, it was replaced by a similar tingle, but one you knew didn’t belong to you. It was _Kylo._

You hadn’t even thought about the fact that doing this could break down your own barriers enough that he would be let in. You felt the foreign tingle work its way up your body, guiding its tendrils to your neck before eventually reaching towards the edges of your mind. 

You tried to build up your walls again, letting out a small gasp, but it was too late. Whatever Kylo was doing, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. This was out of his control and yours. You felt a large, trembling hand cradle the back of your neck, stabilizing you as you slipped backwards, weak from your exertion. You panicked as you realized that all you could do was try to guide him towards the harmless memories — the ones of you and Finn walking the hallways of the Finalizer, or you waving at a scowling Mrs. Stoney at the reception desk, or when you ate Koda’s birthday cake earlier that day… 

But your mind had other ideas. 

Your memories flitted before you like pages in an out-of-control flipbook, inching closer and closer to the one that you couldn’t let Kylo see. You squeezed your hands tighter around his as you tried to stop the flashes as they moved towards your most terrible secret. The visions became filled by images and scenes of your brother, your dad, _your mom_... 

The whole world seemed to stand still as you suddenly found yourself back in your home on Lothal. You looked around, knowing exactly what you were about to witness; what _Kylo_ was about to witness. 

_“You’re an artist; you always have been. An artist who can save the Resistance with her work.” Your mother paused, looking at you with a glint in her eye that you knew meant she was serious. “Kriff, you could save the whole galaxy with just a few strokes of a pen.”_

_You felt yourself conceding, even though you knew you had lost the argument the moment it had started. “You really think this could make any kind of difference?”_

_She took both of your hands in hers. “I know it could.”_

_Wordlessly, you shot her a final look that warned: whatever happens, it’s on you. She seemed to understand the meaning behind your stare and gave a nearly imperceptible nod._

_“Then I’ll do it.”_

A pained gasp sounded in the room, and you couldn’t tell if it had come from you or Kylo. 

The bond between the two of you snapped as Kylo stood abruptly, stumbling over the chair behind him. He looked like he had been physically hurt, breathing heavily and holding onto the wall with one hand for balance. 

Your eyes were wide and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized the gravity of what had just taken place. 

“Oh no, no, no — Kylo please,” you stood, moving towards his heaving form. “It’s not… It’s not like that anymore.”

He slowly looked up, breathing harshly through his nose. His mouth was pulled taut and his chin quivered menacingly. His whole body radiated pure, oppressive anger. But meeting his gaze, you noticed his eyes revealed a different emotion: they were _devastated_. 

He spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s not like _what_?”

You stuttered, trying to explain the strange turn of events that made you help the Resistance, and the even stranger events that made you _stop_ helping them. “I’m not a part of that — ever since I found out about my brother — what my parents, what the Resistance, did to him... “

Kylo interrupted you, speaking through teeth clenched so tightly, you thought they would shatter. 

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time? Everything you said, about helping me... That was all so you could find out the Order’s next plans?”

You looked at your feet guiltily. You thought about lying to him, but knew it was no use. You owed it to him to be honest. “I- I was,” you revealed. “But not anymore. Our connection, the Force, it changed everything. You saw what happened on Lothal. Working for my mother, the Resistance; that isn’t a life I wanted.”

He was barely listening to you now, instead choosing to pace back and forth across the floor of the room. “Everything I told you, showed you… _How could I be so blind?_ ” 

You reached out to him, attempting to still his frustrated strides. “No, please, Kylo. I’m telling the tru-”

He suddenly did something you had never seen him do before, not even when you first arrived on the Finalizer. He powered on his lightsaber and aimed it directly at you. 

You tried to remain calm while slowly stepping back against the wall, keeping your eyes trained on his, rather than the fiery beam of light at your neck.

“Please Kylo, I was wrong before. I don’t agree with a lot of the things that happen on this ship, you _know_ that _._ But you were the first person I’d ever met who was honest with me. My parents lied to me my whole life, and because of those lies, I lied to you. That was wrong — I know that now. You’ve never been scared of who I am, both the crazy artist and the Force-wielder. Just like how I can see you for who you _truly_ are. Not like the others on this ship… They’re scared of you.”

Hearing that, he held the lightsaber closer to your throat, its heat burning against your neck inches away from your skin. 

“And what about you, are _you_ scared of me?”

The lightsaber was now grazing your skin, its red-hot sparks making you flinch in pain. 

“I wasn’t,” you said quietly, barely a whisper. “Not until now.”

An image suddenly flashed across your mind, a _memory:_ An older man in brown robes stood over a young boy, eyes wild, preparing to swing a green lightsaber through his body. The image was blurry, but you saw the boy’s eyes open as he turned to face the green glow of the lightsaber, his body frozen in a state of complete fear. You recognized those eyes instantly. As the lightsaber swung towards the boy, the vision disappeared. 

You inhaled sharply as Kylo violently ripped his saber away from your body, affected by the vision you both witnessed. Instead, he opted for slicing through the nearest communication stations. You ducked as sparks flew from his saber. Seemingly dissatisfied by the destruction, he punched his own fist into a nearby wall. 

“I trusted you,” he spoke in a deep, growling voice that would’ve been terrifying if not for the crack on the last word. 

“Kylo, please,” you begged. “Look at me. Look into my mind.” You paused. “I- I’m _asking_ you to.”

His posture shifted slightly, but his harsh voice remained the same. “What?”

“I have nothing to hide now. Look: see that I’ve changed, see that I don’t serve them anymore.”

With no hesitation, he rushed in front of you, putting a hand in front of your head. You shrunk back slightly, startled by his sudden approach, but maintained eye contact to show your willingness to let him in. Surprisingly, his probing wasn’t harsh; It was sporadic instead. Crackling tendrils whipped through memories, ones you hadn’t shown anyone before.

You watched as glimpses of your past danced behind your eyes for the second time that day. You found yourself painting with your father on the dirt floor of your house on Lothal. You watched as you waved goodbye to your brother from the kitchen window, not knowing it would be the last time you ever saw him. You saw yourself meet Kylo for the first time, confused by the tingling at the back of your neck, the one you initially mistook for a rogue bug. You remembered him threatening you, holding you against the wall as he attempted to read your mind. Your visions then brought you to Dantooine, to the moment when Kylo saved you from attackers and carried you through the woods. The scenery transformed back to the Finalizer and you watched your friendships develop, the echoes of their laughs surrounding the air around you. You observed the moment you discovered the true story behind your brother’s death, right in the same room you and Kylo were in now. That was the moment everything had changed. The rest of the images flew by in a blur: Lothal, your father, a blaster bolt. A bird briefly appeared, dipping into the depths of your mind before dissolving as the sounds of a lively birthday party filled your head. Feelings of warmth, love, and hope for the future invaded your senses, only to be stopped by a black wall. 

You gasped, Kylo’s hold on your mind finally releasing. He seemed stunned for a moment, meeting your tear-filled eyes with his hazel ones in a final moment of vulnerability, before straightening his posture and putting back on his gloves. When his face turned back to yours, it was as if he was looking right through you. 

“I want you gone by the night.”

Your tears fell freely now, plummeting in silent drops to the floor. You hated seeing him like this. Despite you being able to see each feature of his face, it felt like he was still wearing his mask. “Kylo-”

He took a step closer, trapping you against the wall with his arms on either side of you.

“Or I turn you in to Snoke myself.” 

_So that’s what his name was._

By the time the thought fully processed, Kylo was gone. 

Gazing at your reflection in the star-speckled window, you realized that you were wrong before: 

You weren’t following the will-o’-the-wisp... 

You _were_ the will-o’-the-wisp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you guys on yet another cliffhanger! But don't worry, I have a feeling you guys are REALLY going to like the next chapter...
> 
> In other news, I've decided that at the end of my chapters I am going to start writing 'fun facts' about various aspects of my fic! Feel free to ignore them, but if you want to get a glimpse of what's going on in my head as a writer (Kylo-style), then you can check it out!
> 
> Today's fun fact - Each of my o/c's names were chosen specifically because of their meanings:
> 
> Takoda: 'friend to everyone'  
> Akilah: 'bright, intelligent'  
> Rilea: 'courageous, valiant'  
> Soren: 'strong, stern, exalted'  
> Benji (the younger brother): 'son of the right hand'  
> Doran (the older brother): 'pilgrim, stranger'
> 
> Alright y'all, have a fabulous rest of your weekend!
> 
> xxHazelxx


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